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STEEPLE KOCK ON BUTTERMILK CREEK, ITHACA. 



SCENERY OF ITHACA 



^M W^tm of tli( fyx^wp ^Hk, 



PORTRAYED BY DIFFERENT WRITERS, 



AND EDITED 



By the publisher. 




ithaca, k y. : 
spence'^spencer 

18C6. 



TO THE 

RON. EZRA CORNELL. 

The Publisher dedicates this Book to one icJiose name will 
ever he known and honored throughout the State; to one who 
has done so much for iilie icelfare of Ithaca; icho has done 
and is still doing so much to improve and heautify it, and 
whose name and memory will here he remembered and 
cherished for the many kindnesses to individuals, " the small 
sweet courtesies of life^'' as well as commemorated hy tlie 
Grand College Halls that are here to be reared, and ichich 
will make his name a household word to future 



Those who visit Ithaca, see in and around it every- 
thing to constitute it a great summer resort. They 
visit Taghkanic, Lucifer, Fall-Creek, Buttermilk, 
Lick-Brook, Cascadilla; walk through the wild ra- 
vines, climb the rugged rocks, or sail on the silvery 
Cayuga, and say that Ithaca possesses more scenery, 
wild and beautiful, and well worth seeing, than any 
other place in the State. 

The Publisher of this book has procured descrip- 
tions of these resorts, and hopes that this work will 
fall into the hands of thousands who seek recreation 
and amusement in travel in the summer season. It 
is proper for him to say also, that the articles, hav- 
ing in most part been written by different indi- 
viduals, who seem to have been inspired by the same 
thought, some repetition, both of ideas and words, 
has been unavoidable. 



OUR SCEXEUY 



Rome boasted of her seven hills, from whose throne of 
beauty she ruled the world. Ithaca makes her boast of 
seven streams, concerning which she challenges the world. 
Each of these has a character of beauty peculiar to itself, 
so that they must all be seen to comprehend the perfect 
whole. Enfield is distinguished by its giddy winding 
walk along the sides of the profound precipices. The 
Ravine of Lick-Brook is as utterly wild as on the day 
when Ithaca was a log-cabin under the hill ; on the con- 
trary, the explorer of Six Mile Creek emerges at brief 
intervals into the sight of farm houses and cultivated 
fields. The interest of Taghkanic mainly centers in its 
magnificent Fall, 215 feet in height ; whereas the Casca- 
dilla, as its beautiful name imports, is remarkable for its 
numerous smaller though not less picturesque cascades, 
not many of them rising to the dignity and sublimity of 
falls. Fall Creek is distinguished by its broad and unfail- 
ing stream, which at all seasons goes sounding through 
its almost impassible gorge and casts itself headlong over 
the nearest and noblest of all our cataracts, the Ithaca 
Fall. 

Contrasted with this, is the untastefully, though not 

unaptly named. Buttermilk Ravine, where the stream is 

so shallow and at the same time distributes itself so 

widely over the rocks as to partake the foamy whiteness. 

2 




ITHACA, FKOM SOUTH HILL. 



10 Scenery of Ithaca. 

belonging to the product of the churn rather than of the 
spring. 

If you find yourself in the social mood, pile up a 
" democrat"* with genial, laughter-loving friends, and go 
to Goodwin's. If your " soul is dark," take a sun-shiny 
day, and wander among the woodland paths that border 
the Cascadilla, or through the Ravine of Buttermilk. If 
you feel that you need to be sobered and solemnized, if 
you yearn for what Thoreau calls " the wild," if your 
poetry has gone to seed, and j^our bump of veneration is 
flattening apace, hie to Fall Creek, and spend an hour on 
its overhanging cliffs, listening to the boom of the cataract, 
or lose thyself in the twilight shade and primeval solitudes 
of Lick-Brook. If you want a pleasant, varied stroll, 
without being burdened with any particular object except 
to enjoy a good walk hand in hand with nature, take 
your lunch and book, say Thoreau's Excursions, or Bry- 
ant, or Thompson's Seasons, or Isaac Walton (though I 
will not promise any fishing), and explore the Six Mile 
Creek. You are always safe in going to Enfield, if it 
does not rain, though experience has demonstrated to the 
writer that from 4 to 6 of a summer afternoon is the hour 
of extra enjoyment. It is essential in visiting Enfield, it 
may be well to remark in this place, to conclude with a 
repast of broiled chickens previously ordered at the inn, 
and to return by the lower or inlet road. If you have 
time to visit or to take your friends to visit only one 
ravine, choose Enfield by all means, as combining the 
largest combination of striking and interesting features. 
If two, add Fall Creek. Then Buttermilk. If so happy 
as to visit four or five, let Taghkanic and the Cascadilla 
come next in their order. Lick-Brook should not be put 



* The Ithaca name for a particular kind of open three or four 
seated wagon, much affected hy excursionists in these parts. 



Our Scenery. 11 

later than the sixth, and, if you can possibly spare a day 
longer, and wish to leave in a vigorous physical condition, 
do not neglect to trace the windings of Six Mile Creek. 

There are ingenious literary manufacturers who roll 
out from their mills legendary lore by the yard or piece, 
and will invent you a legend as readily as another class 
will furnish the resident of Petroleum Square, or the great 
house of Shoddy, with a venerable coat of arms. We 
have, as yet, favored this enterprising guild with no 
orders, so that our wilds may seem singularly destitute 
of that mossy and ruinous charm which tradition im- 
parts. There have been, doubtless, the usual number of 
lover's leaps, and Indian maiden's rocks, and sybil's 
caves, et id omne genus. In fact, some of these, on ac- 
count of their wide fame and authenticity, have been 
admitted into these pages. But, in the most part, we 
have preferred to leave these things to the delightful ex- 
ercise of the tourist's invention. The little we know of 
the aboriginal Ithacans is mainly confined to doubtful 
reminiscence of border raids. 

And in later days how could we tell, save if some little 
bird had whispered them to us, the tales of love and dis- 
appointment, of questions put and answered which have 
narrowed life into a dark ravine or expanded it into a 
sunny landscape ? What legends are comparable to the 
merry reports of pic-nic parties, dancing in the wildwood 
or ignominiously caught in showers, and crouching under 
rocks and trees ? What so sad and suggestive as the 
chapter of accidents which have shadowed some of these 
glens, where a single heedless step has produced irrepara- 
ble and eternal consequences. It rejoices me to think 
how many a burdened spirit has cast off its load in these 
calm, unworldly scenes ; how many a mind has gathered 
the inspiration which reappeared in verse, or painting, or 



12 Scenery of Ithaca. 

scholarship, or, better yet, a refined nature and a holy 
life ; how many a thought of beauty or of peace has been 
wafted on the spray of these waterfalls, or gathered by a 
spiritual geology from these worn and ancient rocks. 
For hath not old Burton, maundering in his quaint and 
learned talk, said, " Truth is no doctoresse, she takes no 
degrees at Paris or Oxford, among great clerks, disput- 
ants, subtle Aristotles, men nodose ingenii, able to take 
Sully by the chin. But oftentimes to such a one as my- 
self, an idiota or private person, no great things, melan- 
cholizing in woods where waters are, quiet places by rivers, 
fountains (whereas the silly man, expecting no such 
matter, thinketh only how best delectate and refresh his 
mynde continually with nature, her pleasant scenes, 
woods, waterfalls), on a sudden the goddess herself, truth, 
has appeared witii a silvering light and a sparkling coun- 
tenance, so as yo may not be able lightly to resist her." 

Some of the sketches of scenery in this volume may 
perchance seem to the general reader tediously minute. 
But after a little practical experience of rambling among 
our glens, this will no longer be an objection. The writer 
remembers so keenly the unnecessary dela}^ and fatigue 
undergone by himself in experimenting, before he had 
learned the most direct and easiest paths, and even the 
most attractive scenes, that he desires to mark out the 
way so clearly step by step, that "the way-faring man, 
though a fool, need not err therein." Consequently these 
sketches have been written, paper and pencil in hand, on 
the spot. How far he has succeeded in that which con- 
stitutes his humble ambition, viz : to furnish atrustworthy 
guide, who shall smooth the tourist's path and heighten 
his appreciation of these grand and lonely scenes, without 
needlessly obtruding himself or his rhetoric, the practical 
test alone must decide. 



Our Scenery. 13 

In this labor of love, taken from the gravest and highest 
of all duties, we have been governed by no vulgar com- 
mercial motive of advertising our village. The God of 
Nature forbid that we should " stick our bills " in sacri- 
legious defjicement upon such works of his own hand as 
these. Our motive is drawn from the veritable rapture 
with which our astonished eyes first looked upon the 
scenery of Ithaca and its environs, and the inexhaustible 
and growing resources which we have found in these 
beautiful retreats for the recuperation both of a wearied 
mind and body, and for the repose, culture and exaltation 
of the spirit. So satisfied have we been in the conscious- 
ness of our " hidden treasures," that we have made an 
ejffort to display them to the world. But the time has 
come when we must send out into the highways and 
invite all the lovers of nature to share with us, that our 
joy may be the more full. If in our instinctive shrinking 
from all vain-glorious boastings, and from aught which 
might savor of the showman's panegyric, we have done 
injustice to our scenery, we will at least secure the satis- 
faction of hearing the remark common among the visitors 
to our locality, " The half was not told us." 

Note. — It maj^ he well to remark that there are springs on this 
fiiream, hoth sulphur and chalybeates. 




FALL CREEK. 



BY REV. P. N. ZABRISKIE. 



Reader, can you climb ? And have you a day to spare ? 
Then furnish yourself with " proyend" alike for the body 
and for the mind, but no more than you can stow into 
the compass of coat pocket or knapsack ; encase your feet 
in thick soled boots, far more suited to pilgrim than 
" sandal shoon," though less poetical; and let your Jehu 
drive you down Aurora street to the manufacturing sub- 
urbs known as Fall Creek. Thence across the bridge 
which spans the stream of that name on the Auburn 
road. 



Fall Creek. 15 

Leave your carriage the instant you are over the 
bridge, and turn short around to your right, up the foot- 
path which ascends the north bank of Fall Creek. You 
will have gone but a few steps when you stand upon one 
of those platforms which nature always provides for 
seeing her waterfalls, and the first and grandest of our 
cataracts is rolling its white flood before your eyes. You 
are astonished at the impressiveness w^hicli a few yards 
nearer view has imparted. 

The Fall, from the bridge, was like some quiet picture. 
Here you feel the wild rush and roar of its headlong 
waters, and catch the thrill of its restless life. If you be 
so fortunate as to visit the spot just after a freshet, you 
will see a scene which no equal section of Niagara can 
surpass, so vast the volume of water, so dark and sullen 
its hue, besides its peculiar efflorescent appearance as it 
breaks against the ragged cliff in its descent, the lofty 
column of spray which rises like the smoke of a conflagra- 
tion at its foot, almost hiding the entire front of the Fall, 
and above all the gorgeous rainbow spanning the stream 
from side to side, and rising in a perfect arch higher than 
the Fall itself. The water is rarely so low but that the 
rocks are covered with a snow white and flowing veil, like 
some ftiir bride of nature. The height of the Fall (which 
is known as the Ithaca Fall par excellence), cannot be 
much less than a hundred and fifty feet, and the breadth 
fully as much. 

It comes pouring through a deep and shadowy defile of 
towering cliffs, on which the tall pines stand as sentinels, 
and to whose sides cling the sure-footed chamois of the 
vegetable kingdom. At its foot lies a deep, dark pool, 
deep enough to drown a man at all seasons. 

The close observer at Taghkanic notices that the water 
assumes in falling the slope of Indian arrow-heads. By 



16 Scenery of Ithaca. 

reason of tlie jagged nature of the rocks down which it 
pours, the water of this Fall is picturesquely broken up, 
as if a hundred small cascades were set like gems in one 
great frame. These unwrought gems are of every shape 
and of various hues. I am reminded of Aaron's mystic 
breast-plate, and find a Urim and Thummim here also, on 
the breast of nature, God's most ancient high priest to 
man. But I will not be so presumptuous as to attempt 
describing a waterfall. A flood of words can never re- 
present a flood of waters, and not even the pencil of a 
Church can more than give the shadow of its terrible 
beauty. So we will move on to the second scene of this 
our first act. 

Continue along the verge of the bank about fifty feet 
further, and you stand upon another platform, affording 
a still finer view. Here the mifls and the village have 
passed out of sight, and shut in by the trees on every side 
except that which opens toward the Falls, is a place to 
lie and dream the summer's day away. Once more, if 
you love the spice wiiich danger lends to enjoyment 
(though not danger to him who takes heed to his feet), 
pursue the self same path as far as you can go, and the 
third scene opens upon you, finest view of all. The Fall 
has continued to grow in impressiveness in geometrical 
ratio to your approach, and seems taller and broader, and 
its voice of greeting more deafening. On your left is an 
amphitheatre formed by perpendicular rocks, which rise 
three or four hundred feet from the bed of the stream. 
At your feet lies the dark, deep tarn. Opposite, the 
bright green cedars cover the face of the rocky wall. 
The giant palisade, which stretches northward from the 
cataract, towers far above all the rest, and wears upon its 
beetling brow a shaggy garland of evergreens. Behind 
you, the valley beginning to open on the view, the willow 



Fall Creek. 19 

avenue stretching almost across it, and tlie higli and fer- 
tile hills closing in the picture. 

We now return along the narrow foot-path, and find 
that ^'•facilis est descensus.'''' Nor are we timid now, for 
the near communion of the waterfall has imparted a tonic 
to the nerves and baptized us into the spirit of adventure. 
We return to the first stand-point from which we viewed 
the Fall, and ascend by a foot-path through the chest- 
nuts, oaks and evergreens that cover the cliff above us. 
Stop and rest occasionally, if you would retain your 
strength for future effort. And you can well afibrd to 
pause, for there is unfolding behind you a fine view of 
the village and the valley. Nature, as usual, helps the 
climber with roots and twigs, and saplings forming rail- 
ings and balusters ready to your hand exactly where they 
are needed. When you have reached the top I hear you 
shout, as when Xenophon's Greeks discovered the sea, 
the Lake ! the Lake ! For directly in front of you, like a 
broad and sunny panorama, lie the waters of Cayuga, 
reflecting the sky and the outline of its own shores, with 
perhaps a distant sail dotting its surface, or a steam boat 
gliding noiselessly on its way. Nothing can exceed the 
tranquil beauty of the water, or the rich and varied 
coloring of its shadowy shores. The proportion of wood- 
land and cultivated field is perfect, and the contrasts of 
light and shade, as the shores fade away in the distance, 
may well heal and cure the weary eye, alike of the cob- 
webs of study and the jaundice of the gold fever. The 
peculiarly beautiful picture presented by the lake here, is 
due partly to the flict that nothing is seen but the lake 
itself and its accessories, and partly to the incomparable 
foreground, the effect of which can only be appreciated 
by being seen. 

You follow up the narrow tongue of land from which 



20 Scenery of Ithaca. 

you have been looking, and now you have reached the 
summit, along which, with mounting soul and body, you 
have been clambering. Look down. Let not your head 
whirl, though the gorge below you be four or five hundred 
feet deep. If oratorical, exercise your gifts of utterance 
from this magnificent rostrum, and out roar the cataract. 
If nervous, hurry on the descending path. In a moment 
you stand amid the shaggy gardens of pines and cedars, 
which we saw crowning the precipice. I need not de- 
scribe the sensations of this giddy standing-place, as you 
look down upon the steady plunge of the water over the 
rocks below. 

You pursue your path along the ravine's edge, treading 
a pavement of rocks hundreds of feet thick. Soon you 
reach a jutting precipice, on which a solitary pine stands 
sentinel, and in which the vast fissures and crevices 
threaten sooner or later a gigantic disruption. This is 
nature's platform for viewing ^the second Fall, Deep- 
seated in the evergreen woods, we call this the Forest 
Fall. It is at a bend of the stream, where the rocks 
above rise very high and near together. Though not 
half as high as the Ithaca Fall, it is still very satisfactory 
and impressive, having the advantage of a wilder scene 
and the full volume of the stream. As we pass on, there 
are three or four other points from which it can be seen 
to advantage each time, with an almost kaleidescopic 
change of appearance. 

Still mounting up, like the eagles, we soon come in 
sight of the third Cataract. This is about as high as the 
Forest Fall, but totally diff'erent in other respects. The 
water just where it flows over the precipice, forms a little 
island. The two streams thus made are forced into a 
narrow pass by the conformation of the rocks down 
which they tumble. The result is, that the poor water is 



Fall Creek. 21 

tortured and lashed into a condition of boiling rage and 
frothing whiteness, which will justify the name we pro- 
pose for it of the Foaming Fall. The Rapids between 
this and Forest Fall are exceedingly wild and swift, the 
bed of the stream being filled with fallen trees and huge 
boulders from the rocks above. 

Pass on till you reach a rude fence or hedge, and enter 
a low and tangled copse of pine and hemlock. The 
gleam of our Fourth Fall flashes upon your sight and its 
regular thunder-beat rises to your ear. Kow descend to 
the bed of the stream. The path is not at all difficult, 
and you will be richly repaid by the wild and sylvan 
beauty of the scene. I need not describe it to those who 
visit it, and I am unable to depict it adequately to those 
who do not. The Cataract from the successive ledges 
of rocks over which it glides we will name the Rocky 
Fall. 

Your way now lies along the rocky stairs and sidewalk 
formed by the edge of the stream, if the water be low. 
If not you will be obliged (unless you are prepared to do 
a little wading) to clamber up the rocks again just above 
the Fall. In this " scramble" I commend you to the good 
offices of some very friendly roots and saplings, which 
crook their arms and stretch out their hands for the 
behest of poor pilgrims. Pass under the foot of the 
perpendicular rock which you reach at the height of 
about 40 feet. A few rods farther on your way descend 
once more to the bed of the stream and will find no more 
difficulty in wild and beautiful glen. Presently the sides 
of the Ravine close above you in towering and rocky 
walls and a distant boom tells you of your approach to 
another Cataract, and suddenly as you pass a bend of the 
stream, you come in sight of one of the most beautiful 
spots of Ithaca scenery. You stand in a vast amphi- 



22 Scenery of Ithaca. 

theatre of frowning rocks. Through a narrow opening 
at the farther end with a downright plunge, and a prodi- 
gious rising of foam at its base, the whole volume of Fall 
Creek pours. The rocks rise far above you, with trees 
clinging to the extreme edge, as if peeping over to catch 
awful glimpses of the scene beneath. The water below 
the Fall is dark in color, except where it is lashed into 
little " white caps." The echo of the opposite cliff is 
almost stunning, deepening and more than doubling the 
roar of the Cataract, which doubtless from this regular 
and answering beat is called the " Triphammer FaU." 
It seems almost as if those " mills of the Gods" which 
"grind slowly" but "grind exceedingly small" might be 
turning their Cyclopean wheels inside the rocks. Above 
you is a narrow strip of calm and holy sky to relieve the 
somberness of the scene, and perhaps the sunshine is 
lighting up the Fall with sparkle and gleam and rainbow. 
But alas ! wretched mortal that I am. Here am I again 
trying to describe the indescribable, and to show off 
Nature's glories as if they were calico patterns. So I fly 
the scene, and leave you at the foot of " Triphammer," 
to find your way back through the Ravine till you dis- 
cover a comfortable place to ascend to the heights above. 
Thence you move like an argosy richly freighted with 
golden memories to the place whence you set out, a 
wearier, but a wiser and I trust a better man. It will 
repay you to take the Sugar Loaf hill (which you will see 
on your right) by the way, for it commands one of the 
widest and loveliest prospects in all this region. 




FALL CREEK,— SECOND FALL, ITHACA. 



FALL CREEK. 



A Southside View. 



BY EEV. r. N. ZABEISKIE. 




ELL your hackman to drive 
yon up the Dryden Road 
which passes the Cemetery 
gate. It is slow, up hill work 
to get out of Ithaca in almost 
any direction, but the tedi- 
ousness is more than com- 
pensated by the unfolding 
landscape to which every step 
adds new breadth and beauty- 
After a half mile of pano- 
rama-seeing, you are greeted 
by the hoarse voice of Fall 
Creek, plunging and roaring, 
Your nature straightway chords 
itself up to a harmony with the wierd music, and you 
are ready for the wild and subhme scenes which lie 
before you. The road now runs parallel to the Ravine, 
and its romantic situation along the edge of the profound 
abyss, as also from its graceful windings and continuous 
shade, constitutes one of our most attractive drives. 
Pursue it for half a mile further or even a mile, but be 
4 



in its deep abyss. 



26 Scenery of Ithaca. 

sure to return to a point opposite the Dam. Here you 
dismiss your carriage to meet you near the Bridge at 
Fall Creek, and strike boldly into the woods, till you 
reach the Dam, which is no inconsiderable Fall in itself 
at high water ; at least, it does very well to begin with, 
and enables you to moralize on the contrast between the 
waterworks of Art and of God. A good subj ect of compa- 
rison is just before you, in a Fall about the height of the 
Dam, but oh ! how beautifully different from the smooth 
and graceful monotony of that. This little sidewise Fall, 
which turns its face to you as you start up the bank, 
flows across, and not down, the stream. On the left it 
plunges straight over, as if to show the Dam that it 
knows how to do that also. In the centre, the water 
breaks midway on a projection of rock, which splits and 
scatters it into a huge bouquet of foam flowers, while on 
the right several distinct cascades are thrown together 
into a narrow opening in the rocks with something of 
the result of mixing an inconceivably monstrous seidlitz 
powder. A deep, clear pool at its foot serves as a mirror 
for this gay and versatile young Fall to view her varied 
charms, of which she is so careful to present a front view 
to the visitor. You could say at first that she was an 
uncommonly nois}^ little coquette also, but although she 
has her full share of song, as well as beauty, and fleetness, 
you would do her injustice if you attributed all this racket 
to her alone, since the sound of two Falls are here blended 
remarkably into a duet. 

If it be the afternoon of a bright day (which is always 
the fittest time for such an excursion), the opposite side 
will look very lovely and sunny, with its sloping bank 
covered with evergreens, and the soil brown and clean 
with their accumulated deposit of piny leaves. It looks 
peculiarly so, as you stand in the shadow and gaze across 




FALL CREEK,-SIXTH FALL. 



Fall Creek. 29 

the wild flood. It may bring to mind consolingly, when 
onr hearts are in the shade and chill of sorrow, the sunny 
land which lies beyond the whirl and tumult of this 
present life. 

Proceed along the brink a short distance, and the other 
feature in this Duet of Floods lifting up their voices is 
discovered. You stand directly over "Triphammer 
Fall."* Its cj^clopean hammers are ringing with the 
same steady and answering beat, and its solemn ravine 
is as impressive as when we viewed them from below. 
You will however notice better than before, how the 
water comes winding and gliding through its narrowing 
pass, till at the narrowest part of all it plunges over in 
an amber flood, and how just at the foot it strikes upon 
an opposing rock and rebounding breaks into the wildest 
foam. As you pass on do not be afraid of the brink. 
Most falls, unlike the " wee things" just described are coy 
and shrinking, and love, like Dryads, to hide behind thick 
veils of forest leaves. If you would catch her brightest 
glances, you must woo nature boldly, and pull aside the 
veil every now and then. After a succession of these 
" iDceps," we come to nature's private box for viewing 
this exhibition, with the great advantage over private 
boxes in general of giving a front instead of a side view. 
It consists of a flat rock extending out over the ravine, 
and forming a natural platform, apparently hundreds of 
feet over the still dark stream. "Triphammer" may 
here be viewed in all its glory, and in the other direction 
the Ravine may be followed by the eye as far as Rocky 
Fall. 

As you pass up the road (in fact all along the roadside), 



* For a description of this and the other Falls mentioned in this 
sketch, see our former article on Fall Creek. 



30 Scenery of Ithaca. 

your atteutiou is attracted by immense ant heaps. This 
seems to be a favorite residence for these industrious 
little citizens, for you will find a reference to these ant- 
hills in the account of a ramble along Fall Creek pub- 
lished no less than thirty years ago. 

You leave the road again just beyond a huge railing 
formed of tree trunks, and dive into the woods for a 
distance of a|)out twenty-five feet to the place where a 
gigantic elm towers, and its giant brother lies overthrown 
across your path. From this point you gain a remarkable 
view of no less than three (in ftict, we may say, four). 
Falls; so brought into line juxtaposition, as to look like 
one continuous fall of at least two hundred feet. If it 
were indeed anything more than an optical illusion, it 
would be altogether the crowning Cataract of Ithaca. 

A front view of the fourth or Rocky Fall may be 
obtained by leaving the road again when nearly oppo- 
site the barns which you presently approach. The descent 
is easy here to the bed of the stream, and a pleasant 
ramble will bring you immediately above the Fall, which 
may be viewed as closely and from as many points as 
was Triphammer just now. If you are not a very strong 
and resolute climber, however, you had better leave this 
out of your programme, as retracing your steps would 
prove so exhausting, as to unfit you perhaps for the 
remainder of the excursion. 

For quite a distance now we can only take shuddering 
glimpses down the wooded sides of the precipitous 
ravine, and see only darkness or an occasional gleam of 
spray, and hear only a smothered roar as of dens of lions. 
At length we come to a place where a path diverges 
from the road before us, guarded at the entrance by an 
ancient and broken veteran of a tree. We descend, 
stooping under a fallen trunk, which lies across the path, 



Fall Creek. 31 

and bids us "make our manners" on approaching one of 
nature's most sacred and lovely shrines. If you reach 
the Ravine at the farthest point on your right you obtain 
a fine view of Rocky Falls. If you keep straight along 
the ridge, you find yourself in a most secluded and favo- 
rite retreat of the writer, which he calls his "Eagle's 
Nest." You are on a rocky seat projecting out into the 
Glen. On three sides of you the rocks go hundreds of 
feet straight down ; above your head there is an arbor of 
interlacing branches. The seat on which you sit, is luxu- 
riantly cushioned with green moss two or three inches 
thick, that completely covers it, and the footstool below, 
with dry, warm soft upholstery. Opposite a frowning 
wall of rock, it rises from the bottom of the Glen, covered 
in winter ofttimes with shafts and stalactites of ice of the 
most enormous and imposing kind. There is, in fact, a 
grand and novel beauty about all these Ravines in the 
depth of winter, which one can scarcely realize in summer. 
As you sit in the sublime solitude of your " Eagles' Nest," 
you catch through the trees the gleam of Rocky Fall. 
Directly beneath your feet the voice of Foaming Fall 
rises tempting you with that peculiar sensation experi- 
enced on the brow of precipices, to cast yourself off', if 
perchance God's Angels will bear you up lest you dash 
your foot against a stone. To the left stretches away a 
picturesque and suggestive view second to none of which 
Ithaca can boast. You have a bird's eye view of the 
whole Glen below you and of the valley beyond. Come 
to this spot at about sunset of an Indian summer day, as 
I have done. The stream winding down in shadow 
between its rocky walls away out into the meadows and 
the Lake, the summits of the cliff" all along the Ravine 
lighted up with the radiance of evening, the peaceful 
fields seen through the narrow portal at the farther end, 



32 Scenery of Ithaca. 

the purple hills shutting in the horizon, the successive 
lines on the surface of the Creek which mark the plunge 
of Cataracts, the solemn warning voice of the floods, are 
all emblematic to the thoughtful mind, " What is your 
life ? " they seem to say. It is even as a gliding stream, 
marked by critical situation over which it passes as down 
a steep, and closed in by high and narrow walls whose 
summits are touched with a glory that shineth from afar 
as from a setting sun, while through the narrow portals 
of the grave beyond, there lies a smiling country seen 
by the eye of faith and hope. Is it any wonder that I 
love this spot, whence the soul learns to mount up as on 
eagles' wings, or that I have given it the name just 
recorded ? 

On returning to the road another divergent footpath 
invites you, soon leading over a rail fence into a field. 
The path is now both pleasant and easy, the deep Ravine 
on one side and the broad landscape on the other. You 
are walking on an elevated plateau of land, and far below 
you are the village, the valley, and the Lake. There is 
however, but one favorable point along this whole path 
for viewing the Falls. The descent to this place is 
marked at present by some burnt and blackened logs, 
When you reach it, especially if the leaves are not too thick 
upon the trees, you have a striking glimpse of no less 
than three Falls. 

By and by the edge of the Ravine becomes clearer of 
trees and the precipice more abrupt. As you stand on 
the brink you look directly down into the stream. Upon 
the opposite side the rocks stand out like some immense 
castle wall, with great buttresses and bastions and a deep 
dark moat at its foot. The path now descends rapidl}'^, 
and in a moment or two you discern on the right a place 
where stones have been quarried to the very brink, leaving 



Fall Creek. 33 

a lofty and conspicuous platform on the one side sur- 
mounted by a solitary Pine. This is directh^ above the 
Ithaca Fall, and commands a view also of the second or 
Forest Fall. 

You next arrive at the entrance to the Tunnel. Th is 
is a Flume, excavated for a distance of a hundred feet 
through the solid rock. A body of water pours through 
sufficient to turn a dozen mills. Over this subterranean 
stream you walk on a platform of planks, and the ca- 
vernous gloom, the rushing water beneath, the stifled roar 
of the Falls beyond, and in Winter the long icicles that 
hang like stalactites from the ceiling, impart a novel and 
exciting sensation. On emerging at the farther end you 
stand in a scene of great grandeur and wildness, in view 
of the Forest Fall, and on the very brink of the Ithaca 
Fall, while above you tower the giant crags, and we descry 
many of the spots associated with our rambles on the 
margin of the Ravine. It is a good place too for trying 
the voice, just outside the Tunnel's mouth, which acts as 
a sounding board, and helps our feeble organs to cope 
with the thunder of the Fall and Dam. As you return 
be sure to step across the raging stream which tears like 
a demoniac down its craggy bed, upon the Rock Island 
formed by the Creek on one side, and the flume on three. 
Here Nature has provided a platform, with a tree or two 
to hold fast by, whence the finest view of Ithaca Fall is 
obtained. You are almost directly over it, and j^et suf- 
ficiently, if front, to observe its whole surface. 

You now seek the road through the yard of Andus 
McChain & Co's. paper mill. It will interest you however, 
even after all you have seen, to step aside and notice 
the course of the torrent which boils and roars and 
plunges down the narrow channel to the mills. 

You bid flirewell to Fall Creek on the Bridge, whence 
5 



34 Scenery of Ithaca. 

you obtain the most picturesque view of tlie splendid 
Ithaca Fall. The screen of leaves behind which it seeks 
to hide its beauties, the Island in the centre of the stream, 
the romantic beauty of the upper Ravine, through which 
the water approaches the precipice, and the more quiet 
aspect of the descending sheet like a magnificent curtain 
dropped upon a series of panoramic views, leave a pic- 
ture on your mind, which you gladly carry away as a 
memento of your afternoon's excursion. 




TAGHKANIC FALLS 

10 miles from Ithaca, '2\^feet high. Bocks on side of Ravine, 280 /ee^ high. 



TAGHKANIC FALLS. 



BY W3I. H. BOGART. 



We settle and agree that this most beautiful of all the 
water descents of our State shall be designated TAGH- 
KANIC. It is quite likely that we may not be entirely 
accurate in the orthograph}' — and its syllables may in 
the common rendering be found out of place, but it is 
wisest to adopt what is so universal. A careful examina- 
tion of its origin seems to indicate that it was called by 
the Indians " the Great Fall in the Woods," and as so 
remote, and shrouded in thick forest, and quite away 
from the Lake route of their canoes, the name seems 
appropriate. It is besides, euphonious, and we greatly 
prefer it to the designation of Goodwin's Falls, by which 
it was for many years known. The Goodwin flimily 
were respected settlers on or near to the extensive Point, 
which has been formed by the outpouring of soil for the 
ages, in the action of the little stream whose fall is the 
delight of all wiio see it. The name of the hamlet 
which forms the steamboat Landing is Goodwin's Point. 
It is about eight miles in a north-westerly direction from 
Ithaca. At the time these pages are written the access 
by the steamboat is easy, so tar as the times and route of 
the boat is concerned, but the wharf is very insutficieut — 
aflbrded to the traveler only by the courtesy of the 
owners of the paper mill which is Taghkanic's gift to the 
practical — the little pier is covered with a chaos of coal 
and merchandize, and is a very unsuitable entrance to a 



38 Scenery of Ithaca. 

scene which is of the most interesting in all our State's 
book of nature. The proper facilities must yet be built, 
for every year will augment the number of the tourists 
who will be pilgrims to this chief cascade of all that circle 
Ithaca. A pier directly at the center of the Point, would 
give a fine road to the Falls, and would make a journey 
easier, which is quite enough surrounded with difficulty 
to make it interesting at all times. There are three ways 
of going to the Falls, or to the sight of them. We recom- 
mend all three of them, but to difl'erent classes. The 
young and active may easiest encounter difficulties which 
those less in possession of strength might best avoid, as 
very easily they can. There is a plain and good road all 
the way to Mr. Halsey's Hotel, which is beautifully 
placed on the bank that overlooks the Fall, and where 
can be found the neatness and order which makes it the 
pleasantest of all rural Hotels — with all that is con- 
venient for a temporary home — with an excellent table 
— with all that is needed to enjoy the most leisurely view 
of Taghkanic. This road route is safely recommended as 
offering the least fatigue, and as accompanied by all that 
those who seek to clothe the hours with carpet could 
desire. Our eulogy of the Hotel is a genuine one. We 
repeat that it is the pleasantest of all that are in the sur- 
rounding of forest and field. But the view of the Falls 
from above is not that which enables Taghkanic to be seen 
as its beauty deserves. The next route is to pursue that 
plain and well marked road, keeping near the edge of the 
ravine, with care to the footstep 'till an entrance is seen 
to the long Staircase which admits a passage to the gorge 
below. This ladder of steps is a great convenience, and 
a safe one, to all of steady head. An invalid would find 
it a severe labor, but as they who visit Taghkanic are 
usually in the high glee of full strength and health, all the 



Taghkanic Falls. 39 

difficulties of the ascent and descent of these stairs are but 
in the catalogue of the events of the day. There is a defined 
path at the end of these steps — a sort of Indian trail 
tread, which can be easily followed, and it leads to the 
foot of the Fall. 

But the best of all the ways in which the Taghkanic Fall 
is to be seen, and that which reveals all the glories of the 
great gorge, its beauty of varying forms, its wild gran- 
deur, is someiohat to combine all the modes of access 
described. Soon after crossing the bridge near the Lake 
shore, there is a sudden and steep turn to the left, and a 
well worn path up a spur of a hill, the first chapter 
of our route. This hill is of the steepest climbing we 
are to encounter, and if successfully done, it may be 
regarded as something of the luxury of the worst being 
over. It is successfully done, and has been by the clever 
and the beautiful — by bright men and fair women, by all 
varieties of the adventurous, and its acclivity easily gained. 
Once at the top, the path skirts the ravine by the side of a 
cultured field, and gives as we pass, the superb view to 
the North of the Cayuga, opening fjir and wide, its blue 
mirror fringed with all the gold of harvest in the gather- 
ing time — headland and bay blending their bold or 
curving lines in the long coast range. The land beyond 
Aurora is seen, and the picture fascinates to delay us 
before we find our path leading us downward, and the 
descent to the stream is made, over fallen trees, by ravine 
defile, and through tangled foliage till the water is reached. 
And here the adventurous visitor realizes the truth of the 
French maxim, ce n'est que le premier pas qui Coute. 
Our difficulty is in the beginning. Through a close net- 
work of young trees we find the creek intercepting our 
progress. 

All the road up the gorge is wild and difficult, but 



40 Scenery of Ithaca. 

every step of it, is amidst scenery so picturesque that the 
toil is gladly borne. There is small use of bridge or 
foot path, for there are successive seasons in the year 
when the sudden fury of the water would remove the one 
and occupy the other, and thus at the first inevitable 
crossing of the creek, the way is left to the ingenuity of 
the tourist — to the strong arm and the ingenious hand. 
We do get over, and we Avill suppose that the transit is 
successfully made. It is only at this point that the creek 
need be crossed on the way up. The course is to keep 
to the left, and over a series of rough ways ; through and 
along the gorge, we go around, a distance, about a mile — 
a vigorous mile of exertions to be abundantly rewarded at 
the close. All the journey up the ravine is a demand on 
our admiration, for the gorge is walled in by vast heights 
— of bare and of wooded rock. They rise treeless, and 
as if they would exhibit to us all the processes of geologi- 
cal condition, or so densely covered with forest, as that 
there seems a perpetual mystery in their concealment. 
Especially as we near the Fall, there is on the left hand, 
or south side, far and deep episodes of glen within the 
greater glen, leading off to invite us to explore them and 
detaining us from the onward progress. Few do make the 
exploration, and they abide summer and winter, nooks 
and recesses of woodland, the very chosen home of the 
Fawn and the Dryad, if the mystery of mythology were 
yet interlaced with our forest life. The bold heights are 
pinnacled and castellated, and the sky seems like a narrow 
river of blue ether flowing above us. We forget the rude 
roading in the study of this wildly written chapter of crea- 
tion. We turn out of one of these deep wood paths to 
the right, and upon us is the Taghkanic — the most Man- 
ning and beautiful of Falls. That pure veil of misty 
water, turning into woven air, almost from the instant it 



Taghkanic Falls. 41 

leaves the brow of the precipice, and so gently, so sweetly 
changing into foam — pure silver threaded wool Hke foam 
— and at last not dashing or breaking, but gliding into the 
chasm below. There are what seem, different fibres, (if 
we may use that word), of the water that make up the 
Fall and these are intermingled in sweetness of union. 
The water has a descent so free that it seems to use a 
leisure of movement, and it is easy to enumerate the sec- 
onds in the time of the flill. Beneath it nearly all the 
way, the rock is visible, and there is a foliage there that 
is thus perpetually bathed by the crystal cascade. It is 
a very diamond of beauty, set in all the rugged and fierce 
scenery of that dark and wild glen. It is like a fairy sur- 
rounded by a rude guard of giants. It is a surprise of 
loveliness amidst darkness and gloom. The glen has 
intended to give a great amphitheatre for the Fall, w^hich 
true to its shy sweetness of notice, occupies but brief 
space in that extended circle. A little pool seems to be 
in constant attendance at the foot of the cascade, as if 
lingering to talk to the Taghkanic, before it should tell 
the story of its far leap, to the Cayuga, to which it is to 
hasten. Great mounds of debris are beneath the cliffs, 
and boulders are scattered in profusion, welcome seats 
and convenient tables to those who are fascinated to lin- 
ger here. Our friends who have taken the easier upper 
route are perhaps signaling us from above, but they 
are so far beyond us, that we but imperfectly see them, 
and indeed with better taste than to look at any humanity, 
we are gazing at the Taghkanic itself, seeking to imprint 
its memories so truthfully that there shall be something 
of vivid reality in the delineation which we shall utter 
with so much fervor to those who have not yet seen this 
loveliness. 

The first emotion on seeing this Fall from below, is 
6 



42 Scenery of Ithaca. 

one of surprise — not at its lieiglit, for we lose the details 
of the 215 feet of perpendicular, unbroken descent, in the 
greater effects, but at its pleasant character — we looked 
for something to rage and roar in its fearful plunge. It 
is not that which Taghkanic delineates for us in its pic- 
ture. It comes to us — it moves to us — it rather floats 
down and seems as if something of peace and tenderness 
was its accompaniment. Heralded to us by all the genii 
of the gorge and the glen, out of dark and deep w^ood 
and fell forest, it has its own distinct calm, as if it would 
soothe and soften us after our weary and wild walk. 
The gentle Taghkanic claims its own peculiarbeauty. It 
lives in this rough ravine, as if it were the very guardian 
angel of all the scene, and had only a look and language 
of kindness, whatever might be the frown around it of 
all this shadowed glen. We turn from it with the regret 
with which we leave a scene to which in our conscience 
and taste we know the best within us has made fellow- 
ship. We shall remember this when the cares of life 
have crowded around us again, and this soothing water 
shall flow over our hearts in ever pleasant remembrance . 

Few return the entire length of the glen, and we do 
not recommend this. It is wisest to take the left hand 
path and seek the stairs, which, once ascended, we are 
prepared to find, just what we do find in Mr. Halsey's 
house, a delightful rest, and a delicious refreshment. 
These stairs are formidable, but if taken, as we should 
take life's troubles, cool and easy and one at a time, they 
are but a pleasant incident in the adventures of the day, 
and indeed they so diversify the route, that it is a suc- 
cession of novel enterprises. 

If the inanimate can feel emotion, our Lake Country 
may well be proud of its Taghkanic. It has no rival — 
no superior. It does not belong to the family of the 



Taghkanic Falls. 4B 

stern and savage Trenton, so resistless and impetuous ; 
but it does place itself at the very head of all the beauti- 
ful in the cascades of this State. Most fortunately all its 
surroundings are as we could desire. The glen is just as 
rude and wild as the charm of contrast could require. 
The Lake forms the most delightful road thither. It is 
not too remote from — not too near to — the great high- 
way. It has its owm most agreeable Hotel, and Ithaca 
with all its incidents of a busy life, is within an easy sail 
or drive — and thus in our delineation of the Scenery 
around the Village of The University — we must assign 
the first place in the attractions of its neighborhood to 
the Taghkanic. 



LUCIFER FALLS. 



BY WM. H. BREWER. 



Among the many picturesque spots near Ithaca, none 
better repay a visit, nor leave a more pleasing impression 
than Enfield Falls. The town in which they occur, and 
which gives them their name, is a fine agricultural region, 
and fertile farms crown its rich swelling slopes, which 
are dotted with woodlands, portions of the virgin forest 
that covered all these hills but a generation since. The 
writer was reared among these hills, about two miles 
from the falls, and like many other boys of the neighbor- 
hood, was familiar with the spot, long before it became 
known to the world outside. A Grist Mill stood near 
the entrance of the ravine. Here the family flour was 
ground, and often, long years ago, while " waiting for a 
grist," with other, boys, we penetrated the mysterious 
but fascinating " Gulf." That was what ice called it. 

To be sure, a party of tourists from a distant city had 
visited it about this time, and had called it Lucifer Falls, 
and had given fanciful names to various portions of the 
ravine, but to us, it was simply. The Gulf. 

In those times it was of difficult access, and a visit 
was attended with much fatigue, and not a little danger ; 
but these only made a visit more to be desired by ad- 
venturous boys. We crawled along narrow shelves of 
rock, sometimes could only reach lower levels by climb- 
ing into the tops of trees and descending their trunks. 




RAVINE ABOVE LUCIFER FALLS. 



Lucifer Falls. 47 

We yentiired across slippery, slimy rocks ; but the risk 
was amply rewarded if we could only get to the top of 
the Main Fall, look over its crest, and see the foaming 
flood go tumbling, tumultuous into the abyss below, 
watch the spray rise, and listen to the hollow roar that 
came back from the nether deep. If the water was high, 
this point could not be reached, then we would stop in 
the narrower part of the gorge, and screech and yell to 
awaken the echoes of the place. Mysterious stories were 
current, how bears still lurked there, how rattlesnakes 
watched for intruders, and how counterfeiters had their 
shops and had built forges, and carried on their dark 
work in t his wild spot, where few men would venture ! 

We were never rewarded with a sight of any of these, 
yet a firm belief in their existence, was only shaken by 
increasing years. 

To get below the Falls was an undertaking of less risk 
but more labor. We had to descend the steep bank from 
the veiy top, some distance below. Nevertheless we 
accomplished it nearly every summer, and it was a hard 
day's work. Great was the delight when we got into 
this chasm, and looked up and saw the foaming waters 
coming from so far above. A swim in the clear, deep 
pool at the base of the Fall was one of the rewards of 
the labor. But delightful as these trips were to "us 
boys," they had often to be undertaken clandestinely. 
Parents could not see it in the same light, for aside from 
the risk to life and limb, we generally returned with 
clothes wet and torn, and with bruised limbs. 

In later years we have seen many other scenes of natu- 
ral beauty, have wandered among the Alps, seen the 
beauty of Tyrol, the wonders of Yosemite, and the 
grandeur of Niagara; yet Enfield Falls seem no less 
beautiful than they did in those youthful days, and a 



48 Scenery of Ithaca. 

visit to the old liome would not be complete without 
seeing- them. 

Far different is a visit now, from what I have de- 
scribed. There is no danger, no discomfort, and but 
little fatigue, thanks to the enterprise and taste of the 
owner. 

The place is about six miles south-west of Ithaca, and 
the ride is a charming one. We first pass up the fertile 
valley of the Inlet for two or three miles, luxuriant crops 
of rustling corn, or rank tobacco, stretch across the val- 
ley in great fields. The sluggish stream winds through 
it by many a crook and turn, with its banks fringed with 
sycamores and willows. On either side, high but gentle 
hills shut out the distant view. 

And now we begin to ascend the West Hill. It is a 
long but gentle slope, and the beauties increase as we 
rise. Wider and wider becomes the field of view as hill 
beyond hill comes in sight. The valley we have left is 
spread out before us like a map. The pretty village of 
Ithaca lies nestled among the trees. The hills beyond 
seem tilted up as if for our inspection, every farm and 
woodland, and road, and ravine is in distinct view, and 
off at the north, the Lake adds its charms to the scene. 
But the finest view is towards the south. In this direc- 
tion lies a rougher country. We see fiir up the valley 
we have left ; hill rises beyond hill, each higher than the 
one before, to the great ridge which divides the waters 
flowing north into Lake Ontario, and south into the 
Chesapeake. This ridge forms the distant blue horizon. 
Fertile farms spot the rolling hills, the woodlands form- 
ing a larger element in the landscape as it becomes more 
distant. 

This view is always one of surpassing beauty, wdiether 
seen in the lively green of spring, or in the heat of sum- 




ENFIELD FALL— MAIN FALL, SLS MILES FROM ITHACA. 



From Photograph by J. C. Burritt. 



Lucifer Falls. 51 

mer, when the ripe grain waiting for the harvest con- 
trasts its rich hues with the dark green forests, or in 
antumn when the woods have put on their gorgeous 
colors, and when the shadows of more frequent clouds 
chase each other over the landscape, the first precursors 
of winter. 

Before we are aware of it, or have viewed this charm- 
ing picture to our satisfaction, we turn a corner, a little 
valley lies ahead of us into which we descend, and are at 
the Enfield Mills near the Falls. We stop at Enfield 
Falls' Hotel, where our horses will be cared for, and our 
own wants attended to. Mrs. W., the worthy hostess 
of the house, is the proprietress of the land upon which 
the Falls and Ravine are, and whose care keeps the paths 
and bridges in repair, for the accommodation of the 
public. Here we leave our horses, order our dinner, and 
then set out on foot. 

A few rods walk brings us to the mouth of the ravine, 
where we cross the stream. Before entering, we turn 
and look back. The valley widens out above, pastures 
cover the slopes, a cluster of houses and gardens are in 
the bottom, among which the large flouring mill looms 
up like the father of the flock. The hills close in where 
we are, as if to bar the progress of the stream. And this 
they doubtless once did, forming a lake above. Terraces 
on both sides of the valley, at nearly the same height, 
indicate this, and other facts appear to conflrm it. This 
lake must have been drained by the stream cutting the 
ravine which we will now enter. 

The beauties begin at the very threshold. The rock is of 
soft slates and shales, alternating with strata of harder 
sandstones, all lying nearly horizontal. The softer shales 
wear away, and the harder sandstones form numerous 
cascades, and also forms the bed of the ravine, which in 



52 Scenery of Ithaca. 

places is nearly as level as a floor. The strata fracture 
in straight lines, and thus are formed walls and buttresses, 
marvelously regular, and adorned with frieze and cor- 
nice and battlement as if crazy architects had mingled 
half a dozen styles. Steps, and walls, and terraces are 
there. The narrow places have been widened by art, 
and the way is easy and pleasant. 

We pass down on the right side of the stream, which 
falls over its rocky bed in frequent cascades. At the foot 
of the first of these there are several remarkable "pot 
holes" worn by the action of the water in the rock. One 
of these is as regular and nearly as round as a well, its 
sides perpendicular and polished. It is filled with clear 
green water, and the little cascade falls into one side of 
it. Others are less regular; but all have curved sides 
beautifully polished, and some of them are very deep. 
The stream narrows and soon rushes for some distance 
in a narrow channel, like a plume, a mere trough in the 
smooth rock. Here we cross it by a neat bridge about 
twenty feet above the rusliing water. The ravine grows 
deeper and wider as we follow down the stream, the sides 
sometimes rising in walls, at others, the rock is weathered 
and covered with trees and bushes. 

We now descend a rude rocky staircase into what was 
formerly called " The Devil's Kitchen." It is a sort of 
recess on one side, with marvelously regular walls, and a 
rocky floor, both of which have lost some of their smooth- 
ness by crumbling during the last twenty years. There 
we have more narrow rocky shelves to pass along, and 
more steps to descend and new beauties to see at each 
turn, when we reach the head of the Main Fall. 

Not the least striking feature in the scene is the aspertt 
of the vegetation. Hemlocks, cedars, pines and other 
trees cling to the steep side where there is soil to nou- 




RAVINE— LUCIFER FALLS. 
Fro7n Photograh by J. C. Burritt. 



Lucifer Falls. 55 

rish them, or crevices for their roots to hold their roots. 
Rock Maple with its delicate tassels of flowers, Yew, with 
its amber-like berries, grow from the crevices. Graceful 
ferns droop from the rocks, and wild vines festoon them, 
delicate mosses and curious lichens adorn the gnarled 
roots, or carpet the rocks. The delicate Hare-bell nods 
here and there, and the grass of Parnassus, with its exqui- 
site white flowers blooms on the slimy rocks, and the 
scientific botanist finds here many other rare and curious 
plants, seldom seen by the common observer, to gladden 
his eye and enrich his herbarium. 

The main fall is not perpendicular, but the water goes 
tumbling and rebounding down the rocks in masses of 
foam. Its height is said to be 160 feet, (or I should say 
its depth, for we see it first from above), the sides of the 
ravine rising nearly a hundred feet higher. We can 
stand at the veiy brink of the fall and see the waters go 
bounding away in spray and foam into the deep abyss 
below us. Here the scene changes. 

In the part of the Ravine we have passed through, we 
are most deeply impressed by the picturesque beauty ; 
but here is grandeur. Above the Falls the scenes are 
pretty, — below they are sublime. 

A well-made and safe path permits an easy descent to 
their base. We first pass down some steps close by the 
splashing water for a short distance, and then on a shelf 
cut along the face of the rock, getting grand views at 
each turn. Now we pass along the narrow shelf with 
high precipices towering overhead, and descending deep 
beneath. And then by a bridge built against the rocky 
wall, from which we look down into the dizzy depth. 
This part of the path is but short. We now leave the 
rock, and pass down a winding way among the trees to 
the bottom. 



56 Scenery of Ithaca. 

Here one sees the Falls from below, and they seem 
bigger from our change of position. The walls seem 
higher and the precipices grander as we see them from 
this point, with their upper edge thrusting its sharp out- 
lines high up against the clear sky. 

Below this the Ravine widens out and becomes less 
abrupt. It has many quiet scenes of picturesque beauty 
that would delight the artist ; but it seems tame after 
visiting the wild portion we have passed, so we will not 
pass down it, but will retrace our steps. 

As we pass back, we will all notice many beauties that 
escaped us on our way down, and perhaps no tw^o of our 
party will agree as to which is the finest view. We will 
notice some things more in detail, and perhaps near the 
" kitchen," some of the party will point out the curious 
hollows in the rocky floor. Many of these resemble 
tracks made by huge moccasined feet, and our poet, if 
he chance to be along, can easily tell stories of gigantic 
hunters. Titans in size, who left their tracks here when 
the rock was softer in the earlier ages of the world. 

The prosier part of our party, however, will account 
for them by the action of water. Then with spirits ex- 
hilarated by the scenes, and appetites sharpened by the 
pure air and the exercise, all will hasten back to the 
ample dinner prepared by the worthy hostess of the 
Enfield Falls' Hotel. 



LUCIFER FALLS AND RAA^NE. 



" To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, 

To slowly trace the forest's shady scene. 

Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, 

And mortal foot hath ne'er, or rarely been ; 

To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, 

With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; 

Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; 

This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold 

Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled. 




MONG the many places of in- 
terest with which a bountiful 
Nature has supplied this fa- 
vorecl locality, perhaps there 
is no one point more accept- 
able to the appreciative tom'- 
ist, than the magnificent Cat- 
aract upon "Five Mile" Creek, 
known as " Lucifer Falls ;" a 
name which savors of so great 
antiquity, that it is not prob- 
able a bard can now be found 
among the many M"ho inhabit the adjacent hills, whose 
heroic harp continues to echo the reasons of its giving. 

Although there are many cascades of great beauty — 
deep mysterious gorges — tremendous barriers of rock, 
and grand forest solitudes to be encountered at every turn 
of the path which conducts the visitor along the course 
of this picturesque stream, yet, for a rare combination of 
8 



58 Scenery of Ithaca. 

all that is thought excellent in wild landscape scenery, 
the grand descent of " Lucifer" stands preeminently alone, 
and is the point to be sought by the tourist who is so for- 
tunate as to be wandering in its vicinity. 

About a half mile above the Fall, the little creek, which 
has its rise among the blue hills beyond, suddenly enters 
a narrow but formidable gateway of rock, wiiose huge 
buttresses tower a hundred feet above on either side, sur- 
mounted with a bristling growth of hemlock and pine. 
The course of the stream having been comparatively free 
from obstruction until now, winding through a beauti- 
full}'- formed valley of green pastures and meadow land, 
where many an honest tiller of the soil has erected his 
comfortable home, now becomes painfull}^ tortuous, bro- 
ken with sharp angles, and obstructed with fragments of 
rock which have follen from the heights above ; and the 
water which has idly found its way thus far, prepares in 
earnest for the desperate encounter wdiich seems inevita- 
ble, and plunges into the shadow^s of the gorge as if curi- 
ous to explore its mysteries, aud strong to endure the 
torment which it may inflict. 

Probably there is no Ravine in the world which fur- 
nishes more variety in so short a space, as that which 
extends from the rocky entrance so securely guarded by 
the two granite Champions, to the dizzy verge of the 
grand fall a few hundred yards below. Every foot of 
progress discloses some new and singular formation of 
rock entirely dissimilar from any preceding it. Cascades 
of every conceivable form and height, aud deep, narrow 
channels which sometimes conceal in their rumbling 
depths the fiercely running water, follow each other in 
such rapid and agreeable succession, that the spectator is 
at once lost in wonder and delight. Throughout the 
entire course, a safe and easy foot path winds along be- 




LUCIFER FALLS —MAIN FALL. 



Lucifer Falls and Ravine. 61 

neatli the overliauging clitfs, and at a point about midway 
from the entrance crosses the gulf, thirty feet above the 
water, by a rustic bridge, from w^hicli a grand view of 
the Ravine is obtained, both up and down tlie stream. 

So picturesque, and at times sublime, is the scenery on 
either hand, that the tourist, as he descends, sometimes 
forgets that he has not yet beheld the grand object of his 
visit, and shudders with astonishment w^hen at length, 
upon turning an abrupt corner of the cliff, the fearful 
gulf, wdiose rocky pavement checked the rash leap of 
" Lucifer," stares him in the face ! 

'■'• The roar of Wcaters ! from the headlong height 
Velino cleaves the wave-woru precipice ; 
The fall of waters ! rapid as the light 
The flashing mass forms, shaking the abyss ; 
The hell of waters ! where they howl and hiss, 
And boil in endless torture ; while the sweat 
Of their great agony, wrung out from this 
Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet 
That gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set." 

Two hundred and twenty feet beneath, the water, al- 
ready recovered from the concussion of the fiill, is seen 
dimly through the mist-wreaths to flow leisurely along, 
and disappear in the shadow of green foliage beyond. 
One hundred and fifty feet above, are buried the roots of 
trees which crown the noble brow of the cliff, and thrust 
still another hundred feet into the sunlight of heaven, 
wave the top-most boughs, which sway fearlessly over an 
abyss of nearly five hundred feet in depth ! 

After the first thrill of admiration inspired by this un- 
surpassed scene has passed away, the visitor will, without 
longer delay, avail himself of the stairway that has been 
built for the purpose, and descending to the rocky plat- 
form, below, follow the spiral path along the side of the 
precipice, which will soon conduct him to the bottom of 
the Ravine, about a hundred yards below the Fall, the 



62 Scenery of Ithaca. 

dashing music of which is constantly heard sweeping 
around the angles of the cliff. Now, after making a short 
turn to the right, a few steps of progress discloses the 
best general view of the Fall, and is the point where the 
drawing was made which illustrates this sketch. When 
the afternoon sun in summer looks down over the west- 
ern cliflF, gilding with glory the extended boughs of the 
old hemlocks, and lights up the sparkling moss and 
flashing water — when the deep, pure blue of the upper 
heaven is spread in holy majesty above, and no sight nor 
sound of human passion disturbs the dread, yet beautiful 
solemnity of the scene — then should the pilgrim of 
Nature seek the romantic glen of Lucifer, and worship 
for an hour at her majestic shrine. 




PULPIT FALL, BUTTEEMILK CREEK, ITHACA. 
From a Photograph by J. C. Burritt. 



BUTTERMILK FALLS. 



These falls are the most accessible of all those that 
surround Ithaca, with the exception of Fall Creek, and 
for picturesque beauty are unequaled. 

The usual, and, in fact, the only route by M^iich they 
are reached, is by what is called the Newtield road, be- 
ginning at the foot of Cayuga street, and running through 
the beautiful valley of Newfield to the town of that name. 

The road is good either for riding or driving, and from 
its gradual ascent presents a tine view of Ithaca and the 
Lake. 

Shortly after leaving town the road passes through a 
singular cut in the hills, that is continued up and down 
many hundred yards, and forming a cut or grade that is 
very conspicuous from the village. This " Inclined 
Plane," as it is called, was once the substitute for the 
seemingly tedious curves and switches by which the 
present rail road reaches the level of the valley ; but 
several serious accidents induced the directors to adopt 
the longer but safer method. 

The ride to the Falls is most charming ; the rise in the 
road is slight, and the hills along whose base it runs 
shelter it from the winds and sun. 

Nearly two miles from town the road passes under the 
track of the rail road, and, making an abrupt turn, brings 
the tourist face to face with the 
9 



66 Scenery of Ithaca. 



FIRST FALL. 

The hill, before unbroken, is here cleft by a mountain 
torrent, that comes pouring over the sharp rocks of its 
bed in a mass of thick, frothy foam, that evidently sug- 
gested to the unaesthetic and domestic countryman the 
name of 

BUTTERMILK FALLS. 

The view is indeed superb ; the perpendicular sides of 
the chasm crowned with " dark'ning pines," forming a fit 
frame for the falls of dazzling purity, the ruins of the 
quaint old saw-mill at their base, and above the first fall, 
around a seeming curve, half hidden by the sombre 
forest, seen through mossy pines and hemlocks, is the 
second fall, crowning the first with a chaplet of spotless 
white, and falling silently in a mass of feathery foam. 

The tourist can never tire of standing at the foot of the 
first fall, soothed by the soft whispers of the foamy 
stream, and charmed by the vivid contrasts of color in 
the dull, grey ravine, the brilliant, sunny cascade, and, 
over all, the blue of the sky. 

It is hard to convince one that these two beautiful 
falls are but the beginning of a series of cascades, less in 
size but equal in beauty, and that the ascent is practicable 
as well for ladies and children as for the stronger mem- 
bers of the party. 

THE ASCENT. 

There are two methods of reaching the level of the 
stream above; one, in comparatively dry seasons, by 
ascending directly the bed of the stream ; and the other, 
when that is overflowed, by the west bank. 

Either of these two routes will conduct the visitor to 



Buttermilk Falls. 67 

the summit of the ravine, and both are quite easy. The 
one by the bed of the stream is most used, and we will 
suppose that the one taken, with an occasional reference 
to the other. 

The bed of the first fall is so inclined that it presents a 
series of small steps that break up the stream into a mass 
of foam, and afford an easy method of ascent. 

Mounting some one hundred and twenty-five or fifty 
feet, we reach the level platform at the top of the first 
fall, and pausing in our ascent look back. 

Standing just midway between the two falls, at the 
summit of the first and the foot of the second, we look 
down on the tossing, boiling waters, torn into foamy 
fragments by the pointed rocks, and sliding over, step 
after step, until it reaches the quiet level of the valley. 

The chasm still rises above us, sombre in its neutral 
tint, here and there marked by lichens and a few trailing 
vines that are nourished by the moisture from the falls. 
The Valley of Ithaca lies open below us with a dreary ex- 
panse of marsh, beyond it the spires of the churches 
glistening in the sunlight ; the far off hills with irregular 
patches of green or ripening grain, in vivid verdancy or 
matured gold ! The deep blue lake beyond all, hemmed 
in by the hills, tossing and breaking into snow capped 
waves or glassy in its perfect quiet. The view is only 
equaled by the one from the summit of the fall above us. 

We clamber on, our eye arrested every moment by 
some new beauty in the eddying waters or in the mossy 
woods and trailing vines that festoon the trees. 

The bed of the 

SECOND FALL 

is more perpendicular than the first, and we find the steps 
a little wider apart, and the water comes down more 



68 Scenery of Ithaca. 

rapidly and full of noise, inurmnring and sigliing at 
leaving the cool, calm stream above to be tossed and torn 
by succeeding falls. Reminding one of Southey's lines : 



And dashing and flashing, and splasliing and clashinf 



And eo never ending but always descending, 
Sounds and motions^ for ever and ever are blending 
All at once and all o'er with a mighty uproar, 
And this way the water comes doVn at Lodore." 

We glance from the noisy stream to the silent woods 
with their profusion of velvety moss that covers in its 
kindliness the decayed trunks of the fallen trees, as the 
birds buried beneath a tomb of leaves the " children in 
the wood." 

The second Fall being only about one hundred feet 
high, we soon reach the second plateau and our climb- 
ing is nearly over. 

The chasm widens out, its sides seem to rise still 
higher, and we stand in an immense amphitheatre and 
m front of us is the celebrated 

PULPIT ROCK. 

From the summit of the second Fall, one has a still 
more extensive view of the valley and the lake beyond, 
with glimpses through the trees of sunny hills and quiet 
farms of the village beyond the woods, silent in the pur- 
ple haze of fall or Indian summer, or seeming to tremble 
in the undulating quivering atmosphere of midsummer. 
With a lingering glance towards the hills with all their 
grades and contrasts of color, we turn to the remarkable 
scene before us. 

The amphitheatre of which we have spoken as formed 
by the widening of the Ravine, closes gradually around 
in our front, and is there broken by a narrow cleft 
extending down to within thirty feet of the level on 
which we stand. There the rocks project in a semicircular 




PULPIT FALL ON BUTTERMILK CREEK. 



Buttermilk Falls. 71 

form, making the most perfect " pulpit" or •' stand" con- 
ceivable. Other places have claimed that name for a 
paltry rock or two standing on each other, or a slight 
projection from the face of a cliff; but here is a pulpit 
built by the hands of the Great Orator, and uttering, as 
loudly as temples fashioned by hands. His truths. 

The pulpit proper is about forty feet wide and thirty 
high, gradually rounding out at the sides and perpendi- 
cular. The narrow gorge that ends in it, makes a sudden 
turn some yards back, and leaves, or seems to leave, a 
niche in the rocks a yard or two in width, in which one 
expects to see the occupant of that rocky pulpit installed 
and chaunting to the sound of the murmuring waters 
the praises of Him of whom we read, 

"The groves were God's first temp]es, ere man learned 

To hew the shaft and lay the Architrave, 

And spread the roof above them, — ere he framed 

The lofty vault to gather and roll back 

The sound of anthems : in the darkling wood. 

Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down, 

And otiered to the Mightiest, solemn thanks 

And supplication." 

The sides of the Ravine frown down on the tourist 
and shut out the cheerful sun, and all is silence save the 
trickling of the little stream that falls over the pulpit 
rock. 

In dry weather when the stream is very low the rock 
is almost dry and can be surmounted from its base ; but 
the better way, particularly if there are any ladies in the 
party, is to make a detour in the woods, (on the right 
hand bank) and reach the stream by clambering down 
its banks some thirty or forty rods above pulpit rock and 
then walk down to it. Unless the rocks be wet the descent 
from the bank is easy and perfectly safe. We will sup- 
pose the visitor has reached in this or the other way. 
Pulpit rock. 



72 SCENKUY OK TtIIACA. 

In front is tlu' l»nu(> :unpliithr:iln> Mini (he slmrp line of 
fo!»n\ that marks {\\c simunil ot" llu' second cjisi'suU', junl 
Avo Inno !i \n'\ni lilinipsc ot'llu> ilisliuil vnllov bounded bv 
the ranui' ol'bhie hills. 

AVi> !\ro standing- sonu- thirty feet abovi- the platfornt 
\vt' havejustleO and ten or lift(>en feet in front or projeet- 
inu- from the ravine to w hith th(> pulpit roek is attached. 
'Vhc narrow ,<;-oru'e throu!;h which the si rean\ wintls, turns 
so abruptly that we think the chanui'l uuist be lost in 
some eharu\ed fountain, or liaM' disappeared in some 
mysterious subterranean Avater course. Over bead the 
sides of the ravine lu'arly touch and the hemloi'ks mingle 
their dark braui-hcs. We walk onward and lind that the 
i;oriii> widens as it comes down and its sides are bol- 
1ow(h1 out in stranL:,e lorms by the action of the watci". 
'Vhc channel of the stri'am is but a few feet wide and has 
w i>rn a cut in tlic rocks ihronuh w liich the water rushes, 
edilyiuii' ami turniui;- in a thin line. Just w here the li'orne 
tiuns at almost ri^ht au^le we see a curicms efVectof tlie 
action of the water on the rocks. A stoni' is whirled over 
a smooth spat-e anduradually wears a hollow ; the process 
continues t\>r years, and the result at last is a. perfectly 
circular w ell worn in the rock here twelve leet in diameter 
and sonu' nine fcit deep, tbrmiiig- a very appropriate 
churn from w hence the buttermilk Hows, or presenting to 
a more imaginative mind a TJatli in wbicli the attendant 
nymi>bs of the woods might disport during the long hot 
hours of the summer. Just beyond this bath the channel 
comes falling down some ten or twelve feet, and above 
that fall is another curious well of an oblong cresent 
shape. Beyond this another slight fall, then a half wt^ll. 
The gorge is still narrow and in the sunnnerby the exclu- 
sion of the sun delicionsly cool. One longs to rest forever 
stretched on the rcH'ks. and lulled bv the sotY murmur of 



Buttermilk Falls. 73 

the water, to rest and dream, and the sweet song of the 

"Mild eyed, melancholy Lotus sated" 

floats through one's memory with its eadcnce soft as the 
plashing waters. 

" There is sweet music here that softer falls 
Than petals from blown roses on the grass, 
Or night dews on still waters between walls 
Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass ; 
Music that gentlier on the spirit Ties 
Than tired eye-lids upon tired eyes, 

Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies 
There are cool mosses deep, ' 

And through the moss the ivies creep, 
And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep 
And from the craggy edge the poppy hangs in sleep, 

How sweet it were hearing tiie downward stream 

With half shut eyes, ever to seem 
Falling asleep in a half dream ! 

To muse and brood and live again in memory 

With those old faces of our infancj- 

Heaped over with a mound of grass, 

Two handfuls of white dust shut in an urn of brass !" 

There are several more of these curious walls or paths, 
and the series ends in a small one some five or six feet in 
diameter, at the foot of a narrow channel cut deep in the 
rock, rising some ten or twelve feet, and not more than 
two wide, through which the whole stream is forced, and 
glides with intense rapidity in a smooth, dark coil of 
water. 

The tourist can continue in the glen from pulpit rock 
through its entu'e length, and can not fail to admire the 
smooth, clear rocks, polished and worn by the waters. 
Ascending in convenient steps the hanks, some twenty or 
thirty feet high, composed of horizontal strata of rocks 
covered with lichens, brown, white and every shade of 
grey, fringed with trailing vines and curious vivid moss. 

From the narrow channel or flume just mentioned, 
glancing up the stream a most beautiful view is presented. 
The stream flows on between straight, narrow banks, 
10 



74 Scenery of Ithaca. 

arched over by trees, forming a shady vista, and one 
above the otlier ; rising higlier in tlie distance, are four 
well defined cascades, the water tiilling in sheets of foam 
and contrasting strongly with the dark green of the 
trees and the neutral tint of the banks. These cascades 
are, respectively, ten, twenty, ten and twelve feet high. 
We can not dwell on this beautiful view ; the cascades 
rising one above the other with a gleam of sunlight some- 
times falling through the trees and reflecting back in 
dazzling rays the soft sound of the water ; the lichened 
bank and moss grown trees combine to form a scene that, 
for picturesque beauty, is seldom equaled in this country. 

When we reach the fourth fall of the series just men- 
tioned, the character of the scenery changes, and the 
banks, losing their rocky steepness, slope gradually down 
to the water's edge. The stream glides along with but 
few interruptions of cascades in its easy descent, and the 
trees are reflected back in its smooth surface in all their 
perfection of form and color. We have gone a little 
more than one half of the whole extent of the stream, 
and our attention being continually attracted by some 
new beauty in the stream or wood, we can hardly beheve 
we have gone so far. 

The stream grows more and more brook-hke, and 
murmuring over its rocky bed seems gleefully singing : 

" I chatter over stor.j' Avays 

In little sharps aucf trebles, 
I bubble into eddjiiig bays, 

I babble ou the pebbles. 

I wind about, and in and out. 

With here a blossom sailing. 
And here and there a lusty trout, 

And here and there a grayling. 

And here and there a foamy flake 

Upon me as I travel. 
With mi\ny a silv'ry water break, 

Above the golden gravel." 



Buttermilk Falls. 75 

We pause and notice the exquisite ferns that fringe 
the rocks, and spring up in tufts on the fallen trees that 
the moss has nearly covered. The woods are evergreen, 
and we have visited them in winter when only the silent, 
ice-bound stream altered the scene from that of the past 
summer ; the woods were the same, the moss as profuse 
and soft. The scene is one of intense quiet and peace. 



■ " The mossy rocks themselves. 

And the old and ponderous trunks of prostrate trees 
That lead from knoll to knoll a causeway wide, 
Or bridtje the sunken brook, and their dark roots, 
With ail their earth upon them, twisting high, 
Breathe fixed tranquility. Tlie rivulet 
Sends forth glad sounds, and, tripping o'er its bed 
Of pebbly sands or leaping down the rocks, 
Seems with continuous laughter to rejoice 
In its own being.'" 



The brook-like stream has been quiet too long, and, 
lest its character should be lost, makes an abrupt bend 
and presents a view only second to the one that meets 
us on surmounting the second grand fall. The banks 
have gradually risen until they again tower a hundred or 
two feet above us, their sides bare and sombre and their 
bases nearly meeting ; the stream has widened to some 
fifty feet, and falls in a cascade of rare beauty some 
twenty or thirty feet, its width seemingly lessened by the 
projecting banks, and we catch a glimpse of the stream 
widening out, behind their dark edges. Just above the 
cascade, and in towards the bank, in bold relief against 
the dark rocks, rises a mass of stone, a pillar fringed with 
moss and ferns, rearing itself straight up fifty feet and 
tapering to a point crowned with vines and flowers. 

This extraordinary rock is called indiscriminately 
Steeple Eock, Chimney Rock, and 



76 Scenery of Ithaca. 



MONUMENT ROCK. 

The latter name seems to us the most appropriate, for 
looking up to it from the lower glen, it stands tliere 
solitary in its beauty and symmetry : like a funeral obe- 
lisk pointing its finger to the sky, a fit monument and 
reminder of the generations who have passed away, 
while its only change has been a little more added ferns 
and moss, and a little wearing away by the water ! 

Climbing cautiously around the right hand bank of the 
stream on a ledge seemingly cut out for the convenience 
of the tourist, and rounding the projecting bank, we 
come in full view of the cascade, above which rises the 
Monument Rock. Part of the cascade falls through a 
cleft in the rock, and the crushed water rising in a cloud 
of spray reflects back the sunlight in a beautiful rainbow, 
the dark rock rises near it and adds another charm to a 
scene picturesque beyond description. 

Standing on the right-hand bank and glancing across 
the stream, the tourist will be struck by the singular 
carcase appearance of the bank, the water has worn away 
the softer more friable part of the bank, leaving a sharp 
point that hems in the stream. We strongly advise the 
visitor to climb the bank and reach the projection that 
corresponds with the one just noticed, he will then be 
standing above Monument Rock with its ferns and lich- 
ens, its vines and flowers. It rises, measured from the 
stream, fifty feet or more ; the strata of rock that com- 
pose it, project over each other so as to form a circular 
pathway to its summit, which has been reached by 
expert climbers. 

With a lingering glance back at the wonderful rock 
we continue our onward course. There remains but 
little to mention now, the stream winds through narrow 



Buttermilk Falls. 77 

rocky banks, the one side steep, grey, ragged and sombre 
in color ; the other sloping and wooded. There is but 
one cascade of any size above Monument Rock. The 
banks on the north side lower a little, and before us are 
the ruins of an old saw mill carried away in a recent 
freshet, and a rude bridge crossing the stream, which 
marks the end of Buttermilk Ravine. 

Beyond this point the stream winds through green 
fields and gentle slopes, and is lost in the hills further 
south. 

A road to Ithaca crosses the stream on the bridge 
mentioned above, and the walk from this point to town, 
affords one of the finest views of Ithaca and tlie lake 
that can be obtained. 

Parties visiting the Falls can drive in their carriages 
to the first Fall, and have the carriage driven around to 
the upper bridge and await them there. 

Three hours can be easily and pleasantly passed in the 
Ravine, and the distance from the bridge to town by 
the upper road is not quite three miles, a delightful walk 
in the cool of the evening, during the sunsets for which 
Ithaca is so famous. 

Note. — We have supposed, the tourist to visit the Falls during 
summer or fall ; hut we have found them accessihle and heautiful 
heyond description even in winter, hy keeping on the south or right- 
hand bank, and not descending into the Ravine. The ice bound, 
stream, the motionless cascades, fixed silent in all beautiful forms, 
the banks hung with immense icicles, and stranger than all, the 
remarkable vernal appearance of the woods, render such a visit well 
worth the increased trouble. 



— — p, 




LICK BROOK. 



Where is Lick Brook ? How do you go to Lick Brook V 
Who discovered Lick Brook ? These were the questions 
that were frequently asked in the summer of the Year 
of Grace, 1864. It came out conversationally, that a 
few people had been there, in the early summer of that 
year. Upon being questioned, — It was a " Wonderful 
place." " It was Beautiful." It was a " Fearful place." 
" You must go there." " Don't think of going." " You 
never can get there.' ' " Do go by all means." These, and 
similar, were the answers. They were very indefinite, but 
very well calculated to heighten the questioner's curiosity. 

A party started one warm summer morning, to go to 
Lick Brook. They were provided with baskets and a 




LICK BROOK, FIRST FALL, ITHACA. 
From Photograph by J. C. B^irritt. 



Lick Brook. 81 

bottle, and it being ascertained also, that one of tlie party 
carried a pistol, it was declared safe to proceed. 

They started on the road, known in the vernacular as, 
" the way to Bnttermilk Falls." Do you know the way ? 
No ! You have been there ? No ! ! Has any one of us 
been there ? No ! ! ! 

Following the highway, up the valley, for' perhaps 
three quarters of an hour, and meeting with no greater 
danger than a passing rail road train, (ladies are never 
alarmed at sight of a train of cars ; oh no ! ) they were 
suddenly and with great presence of mind, stopped in 
the vicinity of a farm house, and one of the number 
dispatched to scour the country, and collect information. 
The result was, to open the nearest and most convenient 
gate, and turn into a lane. It does not seem to be the 
custom of the country to ask permission of a man to 
drive into his fields and lanes ; but if the astonished pro- 
prietor makes his appearance, to shout, " Is this the waj" 
to Lick Brook?" and apply the whip. They went on. 
The stream ran over the road, and the road ran through 
the stream. They clasped their hands, looked despair- 
ingly in one another's faces, and safely forded; found 
themselves in a marsh, in a thicket, and then in the stream. 
They flanked a tree, and went ingloriously around a 
stump, and over a log, and crossed the stream several 
times more, and being now accustomed to danger, never 
discovered that the horses were running away. One was 
speculating on the chances of petroleum, the indications 
being an oily, green substance on the little pools of water ;, 
and another, on the probable value of the crops raised, 
and the fine opportunity for investing in real estate, and 
water privileges. The horses were sensible animals, how- 
ever, and finally yielded to a judicious amount of bit, and 
brake, and rather forcible persuasion. The road, what 
11 



82 Scenery of Ithaca. 

there was of it, now giving signs of discontinuing, tliey 
hailed a landsman, an " original settler" probably, for he 
was felling a tree, were advised to stop soon and try a 
different kind of locomotion. The horses were therefore 
tied up, and the baskets and valuables left to their keep- 
ing, a sarcastic individual quoting an Arab proverb. 
" They are safe ; give yourself no uneasiness, O Effendi ; 
there is not a Christian in the country." 

They next climbed a fence. There are things more 
easy of accomplishment than to get a large party over a 
fence, and while they were engaged in falling over it, 
getting caught in it, anathemizing it, one of the party, 
(who carried a fishing pole and a private bottle), was 
accidentally lost. All efforts to find him were vain, 
and the party were reluctantly compelled to go on 
without him. They were now breast high in a this- 
tle patch. There is a law in the statute book against 
thistles. There was, and may be now, a law in Connec- 
ticut, that " a man should not kiss his wife on ye Sabbath 
day." It is very easy to make laws, but how about 
enforcing them ? 

Struggling through the thistles, taking care to keep 
within hailing of each other (otherwise there might have 
been more lost), they came upon the rocky bed of a 
small stream, and went stumbling on, over large stones 
and small stones, and going around stones, and, in fact, 
it was all stones. And here a great diversity of opinion 
arose, was this small stream the Brook ? or should they 
follow the larger stream ? 

They followed the smaller, now shut in by high banks, 
and with the mental certainty on the part of at least one 
that they were all wrong, were going wTong, and must 
be wrong, they turned a projecting cliflP, and lo ! " The 
First Fall of Lick Brook." The laro-er stream was after- 



Lick Brook. 83 

ward, by consulting " the oldest inhabitant," found to be 
" the Inlet " — the Inlet of Cayuga Lake. 

Exclamations of surprise and rapture followed. " Beau- 
tiful," "Lovely," "Is this Lick Brook?" "How glad I 
am I came," " What a nice place for dinner." And it 
was lovely, a circular basin shut in by wall of rock, a 
little water falling in cool spray over green and mossy 
rocks straight down to the bed of the stream below. 
The most venturesome knew at a glance they could go 
no further. The "Fall" was unscalable, insurmount- 
able, and they all sat down on the broad, cool, rocky 
floor, to wonder and admire. 

When the stream is high (as afterward seen), and pours 
over a flood of spray, falling like a veil, it would seem that 
the nymph of the stream was sporting in bridal robes. 

"Another Fall?" "The Upper Fall?" "How can 
you get there ?" And wondering glances at the the walls 
of rock attested the consternation of the party. 

Rested and refreshed (and regaled with fragrant birch, 
by one of the junior members, who had not as yet left 
his youth far back), they retraced their footsteps, and 
stood at the foot of a mighty Hill. A Hill ? surely a mis- 
take. Not long since a little girl of twelve summers, in 
coming from the opposite direction, exclaimed, " Auntie, 
must w^e go over that mountain before we get to Ithaca ? " 
And this was the mountain. Formidable it looked ; but 
Mitli brave hearts, and resolute looks, and long drawn 
breaths, they essayed to climb. The strongest and most 
determined went ahead, and with the exhortation to 
" keep in file," and " make a path as you go," they w^ent 
" onward and upward." Short skirts and no encum- 
brances, and soon the bushes were loaded with cloaks, 
calces, mantles, and parasols and all the extras. It was 
hard work; but a hand occasionally held out from 



84 Scenery of Ithaca. 

before, and an energetic pusli from behind, encouraged 
the lingering and laggard. One after another they 
dropped down to rest in an open space near the bank, 
and to take note of each other's haps and mishaps. 
Breath taken, and a chance to look about, and down, 
right down below was the Fall they had left. 

Upward and onward, an occasional pause for breath, 
a little time to rest, to grumble, to remark on the weari- 
ness of pleasure seeking, to wish impossibilities. The 
invalid gave signs of despair, could go no further ; but 
encouraged and persuaded, perhaps threatened also (for 
there was one who carried arms), still struggled on, and 
the top of the mountain was gained. 

Here one gave out entirely, and becoming deaf to en- 
treaties and remonstrances, the ties of friendship and 
family affection, was reluctantly abandoned to his fate. 
The invalid still kept on. " O ! you leader of forlorn hope, 
what do you deserve for having inveigled me into this ? " 

Downward now, down to the bed of the stream. It is 
easier to go down than up. You have only to shut your 
eyes and fall as far as possible, it will not be very far, for 
the low 'branches of the trees shut in on every side and 
arrest your progress. The invalid groaned ; but looking 
down saw that one enterprising individual had already 
gained the desired haven, and was bathing his brow in 
the the cool water. The effect was electric. Water 
treatment was that invalid's hobby, and she paused not 
again, until she was herself under treatment. 

In the bed of the stream again. Shut in by walls of 
solid rock on one side, and on the other by a steep wooded 
bank ; woe to one who should attempt to climb it. The 
cool water murmured with a pleasant sound, and over- 
head was a glimpse of the blue sky, and the pleasant 
outer day. 



Lick Brook. 85 

Following up tlie ravine, veiy pleasant and easy, and 
stooping under the trunk of a gigantic tree, that extended 
from bank to bank, at the right is a deep chasm, tunnelled 
out by winter frosts and melting snow, and summer 
showers dripping through the "jointed structure of the 
rock." 

Still onward, forgetting fatigue and all the other ills of 
life in wondrous admiration, and suddenly — " the Great 
Fall." Words are powerless. One by one they sink 
down on the firm rock floor, to gaze and wonder at the 
" Beautiful Fall," " Beautiful Fall." 

" A thing of beauty is a joy forever." 

Falling straight down from the upper air, and the 
sunlight and the world above, broken only by the slight 
projection of a strata of harder rock near the base, the 
bright mountain stream comes down, down, broken into 
white mist and spray, robes for a hundred water-nymphs. 

" Noon glows on the Lake, 
Noon glows on the fell, 
Awake thee, awake, 
White Maid of Aveuel." 

How high ? Ah ! none can climb that steep, straight 
cliff. Rock bound and enchanted, — was that the shadow 
of Medusa's head ? 

Taghkanic Fall is 215 feet high, said one. 215 feet, 
how high is this ? If Taghkanic Fall is 215 feet, emphati- 
cally remarked the man who carried the pistol, this is, this 
is 250. Proven to a demonstration, carried by acclamation. 
The act to take effect immediately. 

Our geologist was not there, or we should have known 
the kind of rock, how old, how far back in the " PalEeozoic 
Age," how much older than the coal, and how much 
younger than the trilobites were its fossils. That is, if a 



86 Scenery or Ithaca. 

geologist ever gives a direct answer to a direct question. 
The State geology says it belongs to the "Chemung 
Group." Yery definite that; and the State geology is 
unquestionable authority, and also says that it abounds in 
" Felicities." This party, at least, had no reason to dis- 
believe it. The invalid recovered, and rejoiced again in 
health and good spirits. 

Is it possible that this stream flows from that fountain, 
to find which Ponce de Leon and his grand cavaliers 
sacrificed their lives ? 

The friend left on the mountain was remembered and 
regretted, but one recalling that he loved Shakspeare well, 
and knew by heart every " sohloquy," trusted that in 
that old friend he would find good company. 

Slowly, and with long, lingering glances, they bade 
good-bye to the " Beautiful Fall," went down the glen, 
drank from the deep pool, and climbed again to upper 
air. They found their friend, not yet fossihzed, gathered 
up the scattered garments thrown by in the toilsome 
ascent, and, with the exception of a serious misfortune 
that befel one of the number (Mem., never wear paper 
collars to Lick Brook), reached in safety and excellent 
spirits the foot of the mountain. They were here rejoined 
by the " lost one," in a state of great indignation. He 
had not found trout, nor a pretty girl, nor " any peaches," 
nor any other good thing ; had been talked back to by a 
saucy boy, and was excessively indignant at having been 
deserted. 

Luncheon. Ah, how good it was. The chickens and 
the ]'ipe tomatoes, and the bottle, and the pears, and all 
the other good things, and — aw^ay. 

Beautiful waterfalls, beautiful day, kind friends and 
true, they will be a pleasant memory forever. 

It has been ascertained that when the present elderly 



Lick Brook. 87 

people of the burg of Ithaca were young, they were in 
the habit of visiting Lick Brook, but not bringing up 
tlieir children to follow in the footsteps of their fathers 
(that is not the custom now), it was forgotten. Having 
been recently rediscovered, they have recalled their lost 
youth, its pleasures and pic-nics, and also the memory 
of Lick Brook. 



SIX MILE CREEK. 



EEK one of the golden Octo- 
ber or Indian summer days, 
and visit Six Mile Creek, 
prepared to make a day of 
it. Go not when the water 
is high, for then the inter- 
est will not be heightened, 
while the obstacles will be 
greatly increased. Walk or 
drive along the south side 
road, till you come nearly 
to the Bridge, then descend 
into the Ravine. On round- 
ing the hill you find your- 
self in an amphitheatre of vast extent and of a wild and 
desolate beauty ; at the farther end a cataract foams down 
a pile of irregular rocks. This charming little Fall about 
fifty feet high is usually called " The Well Fall," m allusion 
to a phenomenon usual in these streams where the action 
of the water has gradually worn away deep round holes in 
the rock. But as there is httle or no evidence of these at 
this spot, whereas there is the largest and most distinctly 
defined well in all this region at the Upper Falls, soon to 
be described, the name must have been erroneously from 
the latter to the former, and as this would leave the pres- 
ent Fall without a cognomen, we take the liberty_of 





SIX MILE CREEK —FIRST FALL, ITHACA. 
From Photogravh by J. V. Burritt. 



12 



Six Mile Creek. 91 

applying to it that of a citizen, and call it the Cornell 
Fall. That name already become world wide in its 
fame, and destined to an immortal renown in the records 
of philanthropy and education, it is the delight of every 
Ithacan to inscribe alike on monuments of nature and of 
art. In time of low water the side of the Fall furnishes 
a convenient staircase for ascending fron\ the Glen ; at 
other times one is fain to retrace his steps. In either 
case you return to the point where you left the road 
before, and scale the abrupt and partly excavated sand 
bank which overhangs it on the other side. The narrow 
tongue of land on which you now stand with the deep 
gully on one hand, and the creek sounding far down on 
the other, was once a sort of loop or knot hole in the 
stream, the gully aforesaid being evidently an obsolete 
channel. Looking back you command a lengthwise view 
of the wide and desolate glen, through which from side 
to side meanders the Six Mile Creek, and through the 
opening at the further end you have a picturesque glimpse 
of a portion of the village with the gleaming lake and 
the cultivated hills beyond. 

Follow the edge of the Ravine on your left, and you 
are straightway in a scene of great seclusion, only marred 
by the ravages of the unromantic axe. In these days, what- 
ever might have been true in ancient times, a man is not 
" famous according as he Ufteth up axes upon the thick 
trees." To wander close by the stream must formerly 
have been a very delightful thing, but it is better now to 
keep within the remnant of woods that the all devouring 
saw mill has condescended to leave. The high bank, 
however, aflFords some interesting views of the glen be- 
neath, as well as many a pleasant spot to while away a 
half hour luxuriously with a book, such as shall inspire, 
but not absorb your meditation. The glen is very wide 



92 Scenery of Ithaca. 

in places on account of the windings of the stream, which 
will occupy a mile in its twistings and doublings in order 
to proceed a quarter of that distance, a striking emblem, 
in all but its gracefulness and beauty, of the career of 
many a tortuous trafficker in the interest of his country 
and the votes of his fellow citizens ! 

Following the wood road which opens before your 
feet, you presently find yourself in a labyrinth of wild 
and lonely dells, each of which attracts your romantic 
spirit. But resisting temptation (only perhaps turning 
aside to scale the Round Top on your right for the 
view^, you descend to the bank of the Creek, just where 
it brawls among the rocks at that stage of its career 
which may be called the Rapids. The woods hereabouts 
are shady and deliglitfuJ., and slope gently to the water's 
edge. A little farther on they expand into a level field 
bordered on three sides by the Creek. Here is one of 
the favorite haunts of the writer, and a grand spot for a 
picnic, or at least a halt. If you would drink in the true 
aroma of woods and water-brooks, sit down somewhere 
on one of these old logs and listen, as the season may be, 
to the singing of birds or the chirping of squirrels (I 
never saw, by the way, so many of these last most lova- 
ble of all wild things, as on this Creek. I am almost 
tempted at times to christen it anew with the equally 
descriptive and much more romantic name of Squirrel 
River). The water chords are so exquisitely stretched 
over the pebbly bottom, that their music seems to me 
the softest and most tuneful I ever heard. And the old 
trees stand around in such graceful attitudes and with 
such sunny distances between, that there is nothing of 
gloom, though the whole scene is so primitive and wild, 
and apparently so remote from human habitation. 

On leaving this pleasant Hall of Meditation, a variety 



Six Mile Creek. 93 

will be added to the excursion by crossing the stream on 
a bridge of stepping stones, already there, or newl}'- 
constructed by your own engineering skill. This cross- 
ing can be more easily effected, however, by making the 
detour of the hill and coming down to the stream again, 
where two giant trees offer their backs as substantial 
bridges. You continue your woodland walk, the stream 
beside you now expanding into a great width and trick- 
ling through a hundred stony paths, and now narrow, 
and deep, and still. The opposite side presents every 
variety of appearance, rocky wall, and shady bank, and 
towering wooded height. As you approach the narrow 
Pass, you will be obliged to descend to the edge of the 
water, where you will find a stone sidewalk, more or less 
eligible according to your rotundity and agility. The 
Pass is a narrow defile between the rocks, through which 
the water pours over a pavement of solid stone. In 
these clear shallows the minnows are darting to and fro, 
and the amber, brown, gray, yellow, and green of the 
rocks beneath, delight the color-loving eye. Altogether 
this spot is a charming feature of the varied and quiet 
scenery of Six Mile Creek. 

And now on emerging from this cool and shady Pass, 
do not be discouraged at the axe-desolated and sun- 
stricken appearance of the scene, for, alas ! uncultured 
cultivation has been here with a vandal hand. 

"Nor bate a jot 

Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer 
Right onward." 

And you will yet be rewarded by the best and crown- 
ing part of your excursion. To my taste, these reaches 
of the uninteresting, contribute to the enjoyment of this 
Creek. In Buttermilk or Enfield there is one continuous 
vision of beauty ; but here the attractions are so dis- 



94 Scenery of Ithaca. 

severed the one from the other, as to unfold before you 
like the successive scenes of a play, and you enter upon 
each with a nevi^ relish, 

Now it will be well for the youthful David of adven- 
ture to choose five smooth stones of the brook, for a 
causeway over the same, if he w^ould slay several Goliath- 
like difficulties in his path, as well as materially shorten 
the distance across this open space. The left side of the 
Creek now becomes, in fact, quite impracticable. 

The woods and hills again rise about you, and you go 
on your way rejoicing under the shade of oaks, cedars 
and all manner of trees. Across your path a bright cas- 
cade comes skipping like a mountain nymph from the 
hills above. You thread your way, now on a grassy 
bank, and now, on the pebbly bottom of the stream. Af- 
ter two o'clock of the Indian Summer day, you will see 
sunset a dozen times behind the hills above you. 

The scene suddenly and completely changes as you 
round a corner, and discover a fall fifty feet in height and 
of the most curious description. It is situated in a se- 
cluded nook that seems expressly fitted up for it. This 
is the genuine Well Falls, as you may judge by the 
deep and circular cistern just before you, into which a 
large portion of the stream pours itself No graver's 
hand could have hollowed and smoothed this wonder of 
nature more deftly than the "continual dropping" of 
water through countless years. The remainder of the 
stream has polished the rocks, over which it passes in a 
thin and foamy sheet, as smooth as marble. The color 
of the rocks is a deep rich brown, varied by bright green 
mosses that cling to it under the water so closely as to 
seem like particles of the stone itself 

Climbing up the stone staircase beside the Fall, you 
find yourself in a miniature Enfield Ravine, or rather a 
Lucifer, junior. 



Six Mile Creek. 95 

The stream narrows into a flume-like cliannel of solid 
stone, similar to what, I beheve, is called *' Lucifer's Bath 
Tub" at Enfield. A friendly plank conducts you over at 
this point, and you travel on through one of the wildest, 
coolest, most rocky of ravines, with the water springing 
and roaring beside you, and the rocks above filling the 
narrow pass with premature twilight. Here is a cascade 
about ten feet high, which raises a roar as you approach 
it almost equal in volume to Enfield in all its glory. At 
last the sunlight bursts upon the view ahead, you issue 
from the ravine and your sight seeing is ended. You 
take a lane at your left hand, and find your way up to 
the Green Tree Tavern, where your carriage is waiting, 
according to previous orders, to convey you back to the 
village. 



THE CASCADILLA. 



This is the beautiful and original name of one of our 
domesticated creeks. Besides this cognominal superioritj^ 
over its sister streams, it has the advantage of being the 
most accessible. It is not a wild country beauty, like 
Taghkanic or Enfield, but trips through our streets like a 
village belle ; yet bursts upon us from the glen with a 
freshness, and music, and frolic life which many a village 
belle would share to a far greater degree, if she, too, were 
oftener seen emerging from the wild and bracing scenes 
of nature. The Cascadilla is our pet stream. 

The banks of the creek, as it passes through the vil- 
lage, are planted with willows. That portion of it which 
flows through what is called Willow^ Avenue constitutes 
one of the most notable features of our " Forest City." 
For more than half a mile this avenue, consisting of two 
broad and handsome roads, with the swift and sparkling 
Cascadilla between, bordered by its parallel rows of wil- 
low trees, extends to the Lake. On a pleasant summer 
evening, when the setting sun is throwing his slant 
beams across it with a transfiguring glory, and when the 
roads are alive with citizens on foot, on horseback and in 
carriages, it presents a highly picturesque and attractive 
scene to the stranger landing from the steam boat. 

The Ravijie begins at " Williams's Mill," in the very 
centre of the village. In fact, at this same point, it was 
that the first settlers built their cabins, and thence the 
village grew out in a face-like shape. Within a stone's 



The Cascadilla. 97 

throw of the entrance of the Ravine, several of these early 
buildings, retaining more or less of their original appear- 
ance, are still pointed out. Passing into the ravine 
through the Mill yard, you find yourself instantly in a 
retired spot, which, before the establishment of hog-pens 
and cow-yards upon its border, must have been an at- 
tractive place, as it is the sensation of finding so wild and 
secluded a spot on the mere turning of a street corner, is 
worth the courting. There is here, too, a fall, which, 
notwithstanding the abstraction of so much water from 
the stream above for the purposes of the mill, furnishes 
an Interesting introduction to our ramble. In thinking 
what to call it, I am reminded of one, still lingering with 
us in a ripe old age, who for more than forty years has 
lifted up his earnest voice like the cataract in the hearing 
of this community, speaking for God. He needs no 
monument. His name can never be dissevered from the 
history and prosperity of Ithaca, but we presume to 
borrow it to enrich our vocabulary, and would christen 
this first Fall of the Cascadilla the Wisner Fall. 

Crossing the brook on stepping stones (and here it may 
be well to say that any one afraid of wet feet had better 
not try the Ravine unless the water is quite low). 
Keep on the right side of the stream. Presently you turn 
a corner, and are in a vast, solemn hall of Nature, which 
would of itself be worth the visit of every contemplative 
mind. The stream turns two corners in instant succes- 
sion, forming an amphitheatre at the bend, which 
strikingly impresses us with the age and power of these 
floods in wearing away the solid rocks in such deep and 
graceful curves. Another considerable Fall takes place 
in the creek as it descends into this amphitheatre. In 
time of freshet this double bend is the scene of mad and 
boiling and thunderous excitement, as the floods go plung- 
13 



98 Scenery of Ithaca. 

ing through their tortuous bed. Just beyond this second 
Fall you will be obliged to clamber up the bank. The 
walk along the brink above, is a favorite one with the 
writer, especially of a summer afternoon, so shady; so 
retired and inviting of day-dreams. By and by you find 
yourself in a grove of pine and hemlock, dim lighted 
as a cathedral, and carpeted with a clean and fragrant 
matting from the trees above. The way is now block- 
aded by a high board fence, and it will be necessary just 
this side of it to descend again. Several interesting 
glimpses of the glen and stream below may be gained 
from the high bank, especially a view of the first cascade, 
which marks the point where the glen becomes more 
properly, on account of its narrowing width and wilder 
scenery, a Ravine. Pouring through the fiume of what 
was once an oil factory on the site of the present Casca- 
dilla Place, and leaping a hundred feet downward from 
the side of the glen as when the waters burst from Horeb's 
smitten rocks, the second Cascade is just before you; 
and on reaching the bed of the stream, it will require a 
little engineering to pass it dry-shod and unsprinkled. 
Looking back, hereabouts, a distant view of the village, 
especially of the gigantic remains of an extinct oil-cloth 
factory at the Inlet, which contrasts oddly enough with 
the romantic scenery around. 

Looking ahead, your eyes roam refreshingly along a 
green vista, where the evergreens meet in a pointed 
Gothic arch above the stream. Directly above you the 
rocky walls rise, as finely chiseled and as solidly masoned 
as if by the hand of man, with cedars and pines clinging 
" for dear life" in the crevices, and perhaps an autumnal 
forest tree hanging its red flag over the heights. Here 
and there a tree trunk, mossy and old, has fallen across 
the path. 



The Cascadilla. 99 

Presently you pass through a very narrow portal, 
where the rocks stand on both sides like the buttresses 
of some great castle wall. This introduces you to the 
third of the little cascades, which constitute the peculiar 
feature of this stream. A little beyond, in the dim 
shadow of overhanging cliffs and trees, the rocks on 
your right have been worn into the shape of huge round 
altars, on which the Giants that warred against the Gods, 
might have fitly offered penitential sacrifices. The fourth 
cascade is particularly beautihil, seeming to be made up 
of a multitude of miniature falls. 

And now we come to the third of the Falls, properly 
so called, of which Cascadilla can boast. We will call 
it Quarry Falls, from the fact that its present form and 
size are partly due to the excavations made in procuring 
the stone for the great Building above. And here we 
ascend to Cascadilla Place, and inspect its substantial 
structure, and the magnificent view from its grounds. 
We take also the only practicable view of the Giant's 
Staircase, described in our former sketch. A few steps 
above this wonder of nature, we descend again to the 
bed of the stream, near the charming cascade No. 5, 
which like all the rest has beauties of its own. I cannot 
attempt to describe the loveliness of these sylvan scenes, 
through which we now pass. They almost make us 
believe in the wood-nymphs and naiads of old mytho- 
logy. Certainly these ethereal creatures would have 
haunted just such spots as these, and would scarcely 
have startled flie rambler had they peered at him through 
the leafy woods, or flashed upon his sight in the clear 
streamlet. The green and quiet dell with the sunlight 
flashing through the trees that join their boughs above, 
the ancient looking rocks covered with white lichen and 
long bearded moss, and the gentle streamlet running 



100 Scenery of Ithaca. 

through the midst, make up one of those ideal scenes 
which we are apt to think exist only in pictures or in 
dreams. 

We turn a corner, where a splendidly lichened rock 
juts across the path, obliging us to climb over it to save 
our feet a wetting, and discover the sixth cascade. 
These cascades are to the Falls, as asteroids to planets, 
and if we had not so many full grown cataracts we 
should esteem ourselves enviably rich in the possession 
of these. This cascade is a miniature Buttermilk Fall, 
flowing as it does for a considerable distance over smooth 
and sloping rocks, and diving with a curling movement 
into a deep pool. This is a very favorable place for 
noting the varied and rich coloring of the rocks under 
water, brown and blue, and purple, and green, and black, 
and neutral tints indescribable, which no painter's pa- 
lette may reproduce. Looking onward from this point, 
we discover another exquisite glade with the evergreen 
boughs bending down to the stream, which presents a 
continuous vista of cascades, varying in height from one 
to three feet. It is a place for the weary heart to rest 
fi-om " the world, the flesh, and the devil," or if you prefer 
it from 

"The whips and scorns of time, 
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, 
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, 
The insolence of office, and the spurns 
That patient merit of the unworthy takes." 

I leave you to wonder and muse alone, agreeing to 
meet you at the Dam above. There our limit is reached, 
and you have your choice to go either by the romantic 
path to Cascadilla Place, or by the woodland w^alks which 
border the north side of the Ravine. 



CASCADILLA FROM WILLOW POND. 



If you want the most charming and accessible ramble 
which this Paradise of Rambles affords, walk or ride up 
to Cascadilla Place. After drinking in a soul full of 
glorious scenery, made up of hill and valley, Lake and 
Village, forest and fruitful field, blue sky above, and 
verdurous landscape threaded by silver creeks and bath- 
ing in sunlight beneath, betake yourself to the margin 
of the Ravine a little below the Buildings. In fact, it 
were well to proceed some distance till you reach the 
extreme edge of a jutting cliff from which you can look 
up the Glen. 

Beneath you is a scene of great wildness. The gorge 
is here deeper than at any other point on the stream, 
and so narrow that the opposite Bank seems almost 
near enough to leap upon. At some such spot a Bridge 
is soon to span the chasm, adding alike to the pictur- 
esqueness of the same, and the convenience of the visitor. 
Before you stretches away the wild and lonely glen, 
fringed with great pines and cedars, which seem in the 
immense proportions of the rocks to which they cling, 
like ferns and shrubs. The white sheet of liere and there 
a cascade, illuminates the somber shades below, and out 
of the side of rocks on the right leaps a jet of spray, like 
some fugitive water nymph escaping from an amorous 
Satyr. It is truly a scene for a painter. 

You now return as near the brink as a prudent regard 



102 Scenery of Ithaca. 

to life and limb will allow, till you reach another jutting 
cliff, so covered with low trees as to form a delightful 
bower, whence you obtain a full front view of the princi- 
pal Fall of which Cascadilla can boast. If names of 
natural objects ought to correspond to their appearance, 
so as to furnish a description in a word, we are at no 
loss here to call this Fall the Giant's Staircase, for the 
water tumbles down as regular pair of stairs as ever did 
the small servant in Dickens's Curiosity Sliop, and if it 
does not succeed better than did that self-sacrificing 
domestic in waking up the stout gentlemen who visit 
this locality, it will be because they are not intent on the 
Punch and Judy shows of social life, that there is no 
love of nature left in them. A little farther on, a cliff 
just over the Fall, affords a still different view. Here 
you may not only gaze downward at the Cataract, but 
look down one of the wildest parts of the glen, and just 
above, a charming cascade bursts out of the overhanging 
woods and rocks. If you are geologically inclined, the 
rock on which you stand, which is one of the most fos- 
siliferous in this region, will yield to your hammer an 
abundance of specimens, characteristic of the Chemung 
Group, that composes nearl}^ all our rocks. 

Leaving this interesting spot, you walk straight up to 
the Willow Pond, formed by the accumulated waters 
of what was once a mill race, and margined by that 
most amphibious of trees. Your path now lies along 
the Dyke which borders the Pond and the httle gurgling 
rivulet which feeds it, till you reach the Ultima Tlmle 
of your ramble. This is a true Lover's Walk. Above 
you the branching trees, in summer affording an arbor 
of shade, and filled with singing birds, and now and 
then a darting and chattering squirrel; at your right 
hand a little rapid stream, clear and crystal, and musical 



Cascadilla from Willow Pond. 103 

as a happy lieart, and on the other side the wooded slope, 
that forms the right bank of the Cascadilla, whence an 
undertone of sonorous melody comes up through the 
leafy shade, and an occasional gleam of the glen or stream 
breaks upon the sight. 

The path along which you walk is as level and good 
as the pavements of the town. Commend me to this 
walk when I would think bright and healthy thoughts, 
or would hold sweet council with my friend. 

You are stopped at last by a most prosaic thing, the 
Dam, Gentle reader, do not be annoyed, our young 
men must eat, as well as dream dreams and see visions. 
There is poetry to the healthy mind in the abundance of 
bread for the hungry. Besides, this Dam is not alto- 
gether devoid of the picturesque itself; and is placed 
beyond the noteworthy portion of the stream. Exercise 
your ingenuity in finding the most convenient place to 
cross the stream, and clamber up the opposite bank, and 
you are in the woods. If you have a stray copy of Bry- 
ant in your pocket, sit down on the first mossy stump 
and read his "Forest Hymn," or "Inscription for the 
entrance to a Wood," then in calm and musing enjoy- 
ment wander on beneath the branching trees, so inter- 
spersed with evergreens, that winter scarcely brings a 
change over the scene. The ground is richly carpeted 
with moss, of five or six varieties, and the wild flowers 
of Spring, the Trifolium, the Columbine, the trailing 
Arbutus, and many another grow no where more luxuri- 
antly. The squirrels run almost under your feet, and 
the birds mingle their shrill treble with the base of the 
Cascadilla. You catch glimpses of the Falls, and of the 
distant village. You find something new to admire in 
every fallen trunk. You stoop to drink of the clear cool 
spring that gushes out from the roots of a great tree. If 



104 Scenery of Ithaca. 

you wish a purely woodland walk, you take the right 
hand path, if not you keep as near as possible to the 
Ravine. You emerge at last in view of the residence of 
Ezra Cornell, in whose grounds you have been wander- 
ing as in your own, and return to the village through the 
Cemetery, whose beauty and solemn associations furnish 
a fitting transition to the busy streets beyond. The 
Cemetery in fact, is worthy of a separate visit. Although 
covering but 16 acres and therefore not to be compared 
in size to many others, its natural advantages, in the 
variety of its surface, and its native growth of trees, and 
above all its commanding views, make it an object of 
admiration to all visitors, and the place of all others for 
the dead to sleep, and the living to meditate. The best 
view of Ithaca, because the nearest and the most vivid, 
is obtained from the Fireman's Monument. You look 
directly down upon the roofs and chimneys, and can 
hardly escape wishing yourself a Mephistopheles, with 
power to look through into the domestic life going on 
beneath. It is certainly suggestive of the truth, that our 
truest, clearest, and most impressive view of life can only 
be gained from the standpoint of Death. 



14 



CAYUGA LAKE. 



Among the many acknowledged attractions of, and in 
the vicinity of Ithaca, the bright clear waters of Caynga 
Lake loom up in bold prominence in the back ground 
of the picture, as seen from any of the lofty eminences 
almost encircling the village. 

At the matin hour of a flowery day in June, spread 
out at your feet and stretching away off to the north 
until they mingle with the misty line of the horizon, 
that has its boundary over the more lordly Ontario, there 
they repose as quietly as if neither the gentlest zephyr 
or borean blasts ever disturbed the mirror-like surface 
of the Lake. And at such an hour the mild cerulean 
blue of the sky is painted upon it with a softness and 
delicacy of tone that mortal artist can never hope to 
equal, and the daintiest tint of the emerald for the time 
being is dethroned. Linger awhile, and you shall see the 
hue of the empyrean like a dissolving view, fade imper- 
ceptibly away, brightening anon into the most delicate 
green, and this in turn give way for the sombre limning of 
the lowering rain cloud ; the recent glassy motionless ex- 
panse is seen to be ruffled occasionally by those little 
puffs of wind, the avcuit couriers of the quickly fol- 
lowing gale, and the stormy winds begin to blow. This 
typical infant, repose, that seemed sweetly slumbering 
in his cradle of flowery fields and sloping banks is 
aroused, and putting off' the habiliments of motionless 



108 Scenery of Ithaca. 

serenity, seems rapidly transformed to the giant propor- 
tions of fabled Eoliis, careering high above and around, 
as if a very demon of destruction. Then does our hitherto 
fair and gentle Cayuga impress us with vague ideas of 
the grand, the fearful and the terrible, and then do her 
foaming crested waves seem mad with frantic efforts to 
rival their kindred billows of the " vasty deep." 

Who among us but loves to steal away for awhile from 
the dull, stern realities of life, and commune with nature at 
her own altars — to receive inspiration from her own high 
priests. So eloquently addressing us in the low murmur- 
ing of the west wind, making sweet music in the lofty 
tree tops — or thundering in our ears in the storm, the 
tempest, the rushing cataract and the wild rolling flood ; 
so photographed upon our perceptions in the placid 
lake, the lofty mountain, or the boundless ocean. And 
who that was ever moved by influences of such a cha- 
racter, can wonder that the swarthy and benighted 
Asiatic should Avorship the sacred Ganges, or that the 
settlers on the banks of the majestic Hudson should 
almost adore it, or that we, who daily look upon the 
fair Cayuga should love her, and never tire in singing 
her praises. 

But Cayuga Lake possesses other attributes than those, 
as seen through the prismatic lens of the poet. A great 
highway of commerce — bearing upon its broad bosom 
the products of the field, the forest, the mine and the 
manulactory. It claims our attention as good business 
men, and challenges our highest admiration when ob- 
served from a merely economic stand point of view. 
Deep, varying from one hundred to four hundred feet ; 
broad, ranging from one and a half miles at Ithaca, to 
where, as at Aurora, it expands to a breadth of nearly 
five miles, and on a misty day is no bad reminder of the 



Cayuga Lake. 109 

great Salt Sea ; navigable at nearly all seasons of tlie 
year, uniform in volume, ever and slowly moving north- 
ward till its waters mingle with and lose their identity 
in the yet vaster and deeper Ontario — connecting the 
great Erie with the N. Y. Central Rail Road, and pass- 
ing through the richest farming lands in the country for 
forty miles, and with other attributes of sterling value, 
tchy should it not be prized at its true worth? So then, 
while the lover of the beautiful and the sublime, delights to 
gaze upon it from hill top and sloping lawn, to take note 
only of its value as a vast and exquisite picture, the man 
of commerce looks down upon this inland sea through a 
very different medium. To such men, come up before 
the mind's eye, visions of magnificent steamers, with their 
priceless freights of humanity ; the white winged sloop 
and schooner, and that chefcVctuvre of marine architecture, 
the plodding canal boat. Behind these visions, and 
separated but by a gossamer curtain, stands the persistent 
iDill^ that transforms these vagaries of the imagination, 
as if by the touch of magic, into substantial, tangible 
realities. A passing moment upon the log book of time 
intervenes, and lo ! like Minerva from the brain of Jupi- 
ter, we see leaping from their ways, the Kate Morgans, 
the Auroras and the Sheldrakes, and as they go to and 
fro, up and down the bright waters, the astonished deni- 
zens of Cayuga's dark depths are frightened from their 
usual fishy propriety. Scanning the horizon we see 
those winged messengers of trade, the Gulielmas, the J. 
Prices and the Nymphs — obeying an unseen power, 
astound the rustic, who standing upon the breezy shore, 
looks unutterable things, and almost doubts the evidence 
of his own senses, while he sees them moving with 
crested bow and lengthened wake right into the "teeth 
of the wind." And then again following the tortuous 



110 Scenery of Ithaca. 

windings of the classic Inlet, we see a long line of canal 
boats meandering up and down that stream obedient to 
the steam tng, the Bucephalus of the tow-path, or per- 
haps, like the Commercial Bank of Clyde, with Admiral 
Tilton in command, running square before the wind, 
provided always, a hurricane has sufficient power to 
overcome her modeled inertia. 

Cayuga Lake is peculiarly valuable to another and a 
very worthy class ; to those who see beneath its shiny 
waves, the haunts of the delicious trout and the noble 
pike, the black bass and the golden perch. It is valued 
by him who " knoweth where the bullheads hide," to 
they who drop their lines at random, or that large and 
energetic class who draw their nets to Leonard's pebbly 
shore. And there is still another class of men, who 
though not numerous, are not the less enthusiastic in 
their love and appreciation of this superb sheet of water. 
Your gallant yachtsman looks upon it, and as his practi- 
cal eye runs over the scene, he sees a great watery plain, 
whereon contending yachts enter the lists, and with 
every appliance of art brought to bear upon the modeling 
of faultless hulls — with the skill and daring of the most 
expert navigators, they strive in honorable competition 
for the silver cup, the richly chased pitcher, or the far 
reaching telescope. He who can witness a spirited and 
well conducted Regatta, favored with a good twelve 
knot breeze, and not find therein a source of refined 
pleasure, lacks something, in the general "make up" of 
the man ; and in the golden chain that unites the nobler 
and more genial qualities of our nature, if the smallest 
of the links, you strike one. 

" Tenth or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike." 
These men who love the foaming billow, and to whom 
there is no sweeter music than that performed by the 



Cayuga Lake. Ill 

winds as they whistle through masts and cordage — well 
remember the days when the " Ada" tore the chaplet of 
victory from the fleet keeled Union of Geneva in one 
of the best contested regattas ever witnessed upon our 
waters, and again and still more decidedly on the deep 
dark Seneca, They look forward to a coming time 
when with swifter keels and " foemen worth of their steel," 
the anticipation of other and greater triumphs shall even- 
tuate in fruition. 

The Ithaca Yacht Club, in a Shakesperian sense, may 
be considered the Prospero of Cayuga and our " rightful 
duke of Milan," and in a Bennett, they perceive the simili- 
tude to a certain imaginary extent, to the great Poet him- 
self, for did they not both create an Ariel ready at the 
bidding of a Prospero; or the said Club, to fly to the 
uttermost parts of the universe or Cayuga, " and fetch 
dew from the still vex'd Bermoothes" of Aurora Bay or 
Port Renwick ? 

To the leisurely traveler and the pleasure seeker, a 
sail up or down this beautiful sheet of water can but be 
a source of real gratification. Stop on the trip down , eight 
miles from Ithaca, at Goodwin's Point, and that awful 
chasm at Taghkanic Falls shall fill you with wonder and 
dehght. Proceed on, and Aurora, " loveliest village of 
the plain" gems the east bank of the Lake, twelve miles 
south of Cayuga bridge, and almost any fine day in sum- 
mer, or even as late as gorgeous October, a yachtsman 
may not pass within a marine mile of a line drawn from 
Long Point to Levanna, but the " Sentinel" will hail him 
with a sailor's welcome, to drop anchor under the (cham- 
paign?) guns of Castle Bogart, or bid him " God speed" 
on to his place of destination, Springport, six miles 
farther to the northward will well repay a visit. The 
Union Springs are enough if we only hint at the lurking 



112 Scenery of Ithaca. 

danger of rosy cheeks and flashing eyes. Proceeding six 
miles further on, you are at Cayuga, your journey termi- 
nates, and the Lake and the graceful, commodious steamer 
are exchanged for the snorting, rushing Locomotive. This 
is but a brief and imperfect pen picture of Cayuga Lake in 
some of its aspects of poetic beauty, commercial value 
and adaption to aquatic sports. Those well acquainted 
with its long reaches of semicircular cultiyated shore, its 
outlying points and headlands, its shady banks and 
rocks rising precipitously from the watery depths, will 
feel and know the painter's brush has not laid on the 
colors with a too lavish hand, either in force or brilliancy. 
That the citizens of Ithaca should wish to share their feel- 
ings of pride and gratification with the world at large, 
Mdien they feast their eyes upon, or sail over this highway 
of wealth, is but very natural. Time and space will not 
permit more than an allusion to the traditions of the sub- 
ject of this sketch, rich as it is in material. The genius 
of a Cooper is only necessary to erect upon strong foun- 
dations of fact, superstructures of thrilling romances of 
the aboriginal days of Cayuga Lake. 



15 




TAGHKANIC FALL. 
From Photograph by J. C. Burritt. 



THE BRIDAL VEIL OF TAaHKANIC. 



On the brow of the delicate streamlet, 

In the folds of its forest hair, 
I see the gems of a bridal, 

The pearls of a peerless pair. 

The rill of the shadowy woodland, 
Runs to the Lake with a spring : 

The Indian maid, Taghkauic, 
Weds the Cayuga King. 

In the shade of the murmuring maple 

Wait, ffiir girl, at my side, 
Till I lift your wondering lashes 

On the dainty lace of the bride. 

Nearer your tremulous footstep ; 

Yonder the flash of your eye ; 
Through the break of the marginal leaflets, 

Where the mist sails up to the sky. 

You see it : — I know by the color 
That tells me its rose-red tale : 

You see, in the frame of the forest, 
The lace of the bridal veil. 

Over the rock it is floating : — 
Is it woven of diamonds or spray : 

Of molten pearl or of star-dust ? — 
Tell me the fabric, I pray. 



116 Scenery of Ithaca. 

Yon answer me only with dimples 

Hid in a tinting of rose, 
And the light of our own near bridal 

Under your eyelid glows. 

The Indian maid, Taghkanic, 

Weds with the Sapphire King ; — 

But a dearer and daintier bridal 
The bloomings of June shall bring. 




CORNELL LIBRARY, ITHACA. 
From Photograjjh hy J. C. Burritt. 



CORNELL LIBRAKY. 



This Institution, now substantially completed, owes 
its existence to the public spirit and munificence of Hon. 
Ezra Cornell, whose name it very appropriately bears. 
It is located upon the corner of Tioga and Seneca streets 
in Ithaca ; having a front upon the former of sixty-eight 
feet, and a depth of one hundred. The building is of 
brick, three stories in height, and so constructed as to 
be substantially fire-proof. 

The idea in which this enterprise originated was to 
bring within the reach of all classes, freely and without 
cost to them, the treasures of literature and science ; and 
to stimulate and encourage the intellectual growth of the 
communities within its influence. 

In the accomplishment of this purpose, the clear, prac- 
tical intellect of its founder foresaw, as the first condition 
of success, that the Institution should be self-supporting ; 
never a dependent upon the tardy bounty that hall' aids 
and half destroys a needy enterprise; but possessing 
within itself the means of independent existence, and 
permanent, and sturdy growth. Accordingly, the edifice 
erected was planned so as to contain, not only the 
Library and its accessories, but also many rooms so 
admirably adapted to business purposes as to command, 
at all times in the future, a large and steadily increasing 
rental, and thus furnish strength and vitahty to the In- 
stitution, through the agency of a permanent and durable 
income. 



120 Scenery of Ithaca. 

The execution of this plan met tlie approval of the 
entire community. The front of the building, on the 
first floor, is now occupied by the post office, fitted up 
with an elegance and convenience rarely excelled ; and 
the First National Bank, whose business rooms, if not as 
gorgeous as those of the Metropolis, are at least as pleasant 
and cheerful ; while the rear of the building is devoted 
to oflices, all adding their share to the support of the 
Library. Here also is the arsenal of the De Witt Guards, 
arranged and adorned with a taste and elegance which 
does them credit ; their drill-room, large and convenient. 
The Library Hall, a room for public purposes, capable 
of seating an audience of eight hundred persons, and 
lighted from the ceiling through globes of glass ; the 
Farmers' Club Room, whose museum of curiosities, and 
specimens of vegetable growths and mineral formations 
have become both interesting and valuable ; and the Hall 
of the Historical Society, whose collection, needing only 
to be arranged and systematized, is rapidly advancing in 
interest and importance. 

From all these sources revenue iows, steadily and 
ungrudgingly, into the treasury of the Library, making- 
it no dependent upon the charitable impulses of indi- 
viduals or the public ; but able, within itself, abundantl}^ 
to secure its own existence, and promote its own future 
improvement. And with the additional aid of the per- 
manent endowments, soon to be made by the liberality 
of its founder, it will be able to act always independently 
and with eff'ect, become a recognized power in the com- 
munity, and largely mould and shape the mental and 
moral character within the circle of its influence. 

Its organization has another commendable element. 
It is neither sectarian nor partizan. All denominations 
are represented in its governing Board, and must con- 



Cornell Library. 121 

tinue to be. All parties, and shades of parties have equal 
rights in its management ; and the votes of the people 
which elect a president of the village, the votes of the 
firemen electing their chief engineer, the votes of the 
board of supervisors selecting their chairman, directly 
affect, through these officers, the character and material 
of the Library corporation. So that no partial or imper- 
fect good is intended ; but one that is general, nniversal, 
equally open and free to all. 

The Library itself is finished with great beauty and 
elegance. Its alcove-columns represent each of the 
varieties of our native forest woods. The dark swarthy 
hue of the walnut, the delicate yellow tracery of the 
pine, the warm veining of the beach and maple, the red 
glow of the cedar, the shining panels of the elm, the 
gnarled heart of the locust, and the hard, white grain of the 
hickory, and the dusk shadings of the oak ; each, with 
their remaining associates of the forest, combine to make 
interesting and beautifld, this quiet abode of Literature 
and Science. Its alcoves are arranged in double stories, 
and are capable of holding forty or fifty thousand vol- 
umes, with a means of expansion and enlargement to 
any extent which the good fortune of the future may 
make desirable. 

The work of filling these waiting shelves with their 
silent but eloquent occupants has already begun. About 
two thousand volumes have been selected and pur- 
chased by Mr. Cornell; among which the glowing 
colors of Audubon's Birds of America, and the innu- 
merable plates of the Inco7iographic Cydopcedia, and the 
old, quaint volumes illustrating the early condition and 
architecture of London, indicate very clearly his purpose 
to make the Library collection one of great interest and 
16 



122 Scenery of Ithaca. 

excellence, and not to be baffled in its execution by even 
grave questions of expense. 

Attached to the Library, and so arranged as to be 
used in connection with it, are two Reading Rooms, one 
intended to be exclusively occupied by ladies, and the 
other by gentlemen ; to be open and ready for use at all 
times ; where will be found the newspaper and periodi- 
cal excellence of the day, and where, it is hoped, a plea- 
sant and cheerful place will be found, to lure the young 
from the dissipation and revelry of idle days and wasted 
evenings, to the pleasures of intellectual culture, and 
genial and improving society. 

Much of these results is yet in the future, but the 
foundation upon which they are to rest is already secure ; 
and the pleasure-seeker who wanders amid the unrivalled 
scenery which marks the head waters of the Cayuga, 
when tired of the roar of waterfalls, or cool drip of 
cascades, or summer murmur of waves, will always find 
welcome and rest in the quiet and pleasant alcoves of 
the Cornell Library. 



THE CORNELL UNIVERSITY. 

BY A. D. WHITE. 

In the educational annals of the State of New York 
the noblest deed by far is the foundation of the Univer- 
sity at Ithaca by the Hon, Ezra Cornell. 

The General Government had made, in 1863, an appro- 
priation of lands to the different States and Territories, for 
the establishment of colleges devoted to agricultural, 
mechanical and other arts and sciences. Of this appro- 
priation the share of New York was very nearly a milhon 
of acres. 

Of course various parties rushed forward to claim 
portions of this generous provision. For a time it 
seemed destined to be scattered among all the institutions 
known as colleges throughout the State — and that thus 
the whole fund would be frittered away. But into all 
this clamor quietly stepped Mr. Cornell, insisted that the 
fund, to be efficient, must be kept together in one place, 
and agreed that he would give half a million of dollars to 
an institution to be established at Ithaca, provided the 
State should give such institution the income of the new 
fund. 

Despite much opposition, a law was passed chartering 
the Cornell University, and in September of 1865 the first 
business meeting of its trustees was held at Ithaca, Gov. 
Fenton presiding. 

Mr. Cornell's promises were far more than redeemed. 



124 Scenery of Ithaca. 

He gave into the hands of the trustees not merely the 
500,000 dollars, but a beautiful site and farm of over two 
hundred acres, beside the Jewett cabinet — the most 
complete of its kind in the country — which had recently 
cost him ten thousand dollars. Nor did his munificence 
end here. In accordance with a provision in the charter, 
he gave $25,000 to found a professorship of agriculture at 
Genesee College, and invested an additional sum of 
50,000 dollars for the University. 

The plan of instruction is not yet sufficiently developed 
to be announced, but while it is intended to begin with a 
purely agricultural and scientific course, it is not doubted 
that such course will quickly expand into a large and 
•complete university. 

The plans for building embrace large dormitories, 
lecture and recitation rooms, public halls, library, 
museum, laboratory, workshops, farm buildings, dwell- 
ings, &c. It is intended to erect them from time to time 
from the interest of the Cornell fund, as they may be 
needed. It is agreed that while the buildings ought to be 
substantial and tasteful, there shall be no attempt at 
display. 

The general arrangement will be in large quadrangles, 
as most convenient and effective. 

The site is of surpassing beauty. A plateau over three 
hundred feet above the level of Cayuga Lake, bordered 
on one side by the Cascadilla and on the other by Fall 
Creek, gives a noble place for the buildings and orna- 
mental grounds. 

Back of these is the great college farm, on either side 
are ravines, rocks and falls of water, combining not less 
beautifully than those at Trenton. 

In front, stretching far to the right as eye can reach, 
are the beautiful waters of Lake Cayuga, — directly in 



Cornell University. 125 

front is the tidy and thriving village of Ithaca, its spires 
and towers rising amid masses of foliage — and to the left 
sweeps a bold range of hills, diversified with groves and 
cultivated fields and dotted with farm-houses, closing in 
the whole scene as with the walls of an amphitheatre. 
It is a seat worthy the ideal which it is believed Mr. 
Cornell's munificence will make real. 

By the terms of its foundation statutes, the University 
must go into operation by August, 1867. 

Of course it is too early to give any complete de- 
scription of an institution from which so much is to be 
hoped, but the munificence of its founder, his steady 
earnestness in pressing on the work, and the cooperation 
of so many devoted to science and education, afford 
ample ground for the belief that the Cornell University 
is destined to become an honor to the nation and a power 
in it. 



CORNELL UNIVERSITY. 

ORGANIZATION. 

Trustees. 

His Excellency, Gov. Eeuben E. Hon. A. D. White, Syracuse, 

Feuton, Hon. Charles J. Folger, Geneva, 

Lieut. Gov. Thomas G. Alvord, Hon. Edwin B. Morgan, Aurora. 

Hon. V. M. Rice, Sup. Pub. In- Hon. JohnM. Parker, Owego, 

struction, Hon. T. C. Peters, Darien. 

Hon. Horace Greeley, New York, Hiram Sibley, Rochester, 

Hon. Edwin D. Morgan, New Hon. Lyman Tremaiu, Albany, 

York, Hon. Ezra Cornell, Ithaca. 

Hon. Erastus Brooks. New York, Hon. J. B. Williams. do 

Hon. Wm. Kelly, Rhinebeck, Hon. Geo. W. Schuyler, do 
Gen. J. Merideth Read Jr., Albany, William Andrus, do 

Hon. Geo. H.Andrews, Spring- John McGraw, do 

field, Otsego county, Francis M. Finch, do 

Hon. A. B. Weaver, Deerfield, Alonzo B. Cornell, do 

Oaeida county, 



Chairman, Treasurer, Secretary, 

Hon. Ezra Cornell, Hon. Geo. W. Schuyler, Francis M. Finch. 

Executive Co7nmittee. 

William Andrus, Hon. John M. Parker, 

Hon. Josiah B. Williams, Hon. Ezra Cornell, 

Hon. George W. Schuyler, Hon. Thomas G. Alvord, 

Alonzo B. Cornell, Hon. Horace Greeley. 
Hon. Edwin B. Morgan, 

Building Committee. 

Hon. A. D. White, Hon. Ezra Cornell, 

Hon. William Kelly, Hon. A. B. Weaver. 

Francis M. Finch. 

Finance Committee. 

Hon. Edwin D. Morgan, John McGraw, 

Hon. Josiah B. Williams. Hon. William Kelly, 

A. B. Cornell. 



CORNELL ^UNIVERSITY. 



OEIGIN AND PLAN. 

It is intended here merely to sketch the beginnings of 
an enterprise whose ultimate purposes are so large and 
grand as to tempt one to luxuriant prophecy rather than 
sober recital. 

A volume which leads its readers in a lengthened 
stroll among the cascades and cataracts which form the 
head-waters of the Cayuga, would be sadly incomplete 
if it gave no hint of the Institution of Learning prepar- 
ing to rise in their midst and dominate them all. 

Therefore, it is proposed to sketch briefly, and it is 
hoped, coolly, the origin and aim of the Cornell Uni- 
versity. 

To speak very generally, it proposes to accomplish in 
the higher walks of learning, what our free school sys- 
tem has nobly and successfully done in the rudimental 
branches; to afford to the poor scholar, struggling to 
educate himself up to high standards of acquirement, 
the precise opportunity which he needs, and so to place 
all upon a level, that within its walls there shall be no 
aristocracy of Family or Fortune, but only that of Brain. 

It originated in the years of war. The waste of trea- 
sure and of life in crushing rebellion, did not paralyze, 
but only strengthened the purpose of its founder. There 
seemed to him only the more terrible need of a widely 
diffused and thoroughly disciplined intelligence. 

Congress had granted to the several States a princely 
inheritance of public lands to be devoted to educational 



128 Scenery of Ithaca. 

purposes. The portion falling to tlie State of ISTew York 
represented about one million of acres. Our legislature had 
given this magnificent donation to an institution already 
in existence, upon certain special conditions, framed to 
ensure results commensurate with the splendor of the 
gift. Those conditions were not performed ; no sure 
guaranty of their fulfillment in the future could be ob- 
tained; and in this emergency a senator rose in his 
place at the Capitol and proposed to give two hundred 
acres of land and half a million of dollars to found a 
University. This, in the midst of a desolating war, 
bravely indicated the strength of the American arm, and 
the courage of the American heart. 

Difficulties however sprang up. Other existing insti- 
tutions of learning asked for portions of the congres- 
sional grant ; but the evil of dividing and so dissipating 
the fund became so plainly apparent, that in the end all 
magnanimously yielded the advancement of their own 
interests to the purpose of building up one grand, central 
University, to which the gift of the nation and the en- 
dowment of its founder should be given unbroken; — all, 
except one. The gift of land and of money was per- 
mitted to be made upon a condition which reads thus in 
the Act of Incorporation : 

" Provided further, that no such payment shall be 
made unless within six months from the passage of this 
Act, said Ezra Cornell of Ithaca shall pay over to the 
Trustees of Genesee College, located at Lima in this State, 
the sum of Twenty Five Thousand Dollars for the purpose 
of establishing in said Genesee College a professorship 
of Agricultural Chemistry." 

This condition was fulfilled. The money was paid to 
"■ the Trustees of Genesee College located at Lima : " they 
accepted it " for the purpose of establishing in said 



Cornell UNI^ ersity. 129 

Genesee College a professorsliip of Agricultural Chem- 
istry." May the result be all that the warmest advocates 
of the measure can possibly have anticipated ! 

Having thus complied with this preliminary condition, 
the founder of the University was left at liberty to give 
away a half million of dollars. This was done promptly, 
and the Trustees of the Institution, men of state and 
national reputation in large proportion, at once entered 
upon their duties. 

The location decided upon is one of rare excellence. 
All who have read the descriptions of this volume will 
recall the scenery of Fall Creek and the Cascadilla ; 
the one a chain of cataracts, the other of cascades. Be- 
tween these two streams, upon the slope of an eastern 
hill are the grounds of the University. In the valley at 
the north is the long, blue line of the Lake, bending 
gracefully around green headlands and pebbly points, 
and melting into the sky in the far distance. Below are 
the spires, and clustered dwellings, and shaded streets of 
the village ; and be^'ond the horizon is barred by the 
rise of the Western hill, dotted with rural homes, and 
green with the promise of spring, or golden with the 
ripe wealth of summer. Far at the south glides away a 
winding valley, buttressed on either hand by silent hills 
and hiding in its bosom a brawling stream, whose route 
is marked by a misty haze. On every hand nature pre- 
sents all her beautiful variety, and the eye is never weary 
with the changeful landscape. 

Here the labor of a century is to begin. The artisan is 
at work. Lofty observatory, graceful library, spired 
chapel, massive dormitory, tasteful cabinet, — these are 
yet in the future slowly to grow into being and beauty, 
and swarm with the busy youth of the State in the com- 
ing time. The rest is prophecy. It is better to leave 
17 



130 Scenery of Ithaca. 

that to the swift unfolding of the years. Only this is 
sure, that back of and behind this enterprise stands the 
firm will and dauntless purpose that spoke it into life, 
with every noble energy and unselfish impulse chrystal- 
lizing about it; determined, if life be spared, to see it 
fully accomplish the highest destiny marked out for it ; 
and to make it at once the pride, the glory and the safe- 
guard of the State. 



THE MANUFACTURING FACILITIES 
OF ITHACA. 



BY E. COKNELL. 

The elements of cheap power is the first essential 
necessity for manufticturing. The facility for reaching 
market through cheap and reliable avenues is the next 
important consideration. Then follows the questions of 
cheap building materials, cheap and abundant food, cheap 
labor, and facilities for procuring the raw materials to 
be manufactured advantageously and with certainty. 

These several advantages center naturally at Ithaca, 
as will be seen by a reference to the details of the subject. 
Water power is found on Fall Creek which passes 
through the northern portion of the village, to the 
extent of 500 feet perpendicular fall, in one and a half 
mile length of the stream, and all within a mile and 
a half of the post office. The minimum power of each 
25 feet of this fall is sufficient to drive a flour mill of 
eight runs of stones. There are two other streams pass- 
ing through the village which aff'ord half as much more 
power. Of this vast power, eighty per cent, is idle, and 
seeks occupation at nominal prices. 

Steam power: This the more important element of, 
manufacturing power, as it is capable of indefinite mul- 
tiplication, can be produced cheaper at Ithaca than at 
any other place in the State on navigable waters. This 



132 Scenery of Ithaca. 

cheapness will be at once understood when it is men- 
tioned that an investigation on the subject of the Ithaca 
and Towanda rail road, now in progress of construc- 
tion, which was made in the summer of 1865, resulted in 
proving that the coal from the Barckley mines (at the 
prices then prevailing for mining, dressing and fitting 
the coal for market, an allowance of fifty cents a ton as 
a royalty for the coal in the mine, and rail road trans- 
portation to Ithaca, a distance of 65 miles), could be laid 
down at Ithaca for a cost of $2.50 per ton. In seasons 
of ordinary prices, this coal could be placed at Ithaca 
at a cost of $1.75 per ton. The amount of developed 
coal, in and near the Barckley mines, exceeds fifty mil- 
lions of tons. Such facts present a source of unlimited 
power, at the lowest possible rates. The anthracite 
coal also reaches Ithaca cheaper than at other points in 
the State, except Binghamton and Owego. 

The facilities for reaching market is afforded by the 
New York and Erie railway, the Delaware, Lackawanna 
and Western Kail Road, by the steamers on Cayuga 
Lake, and New York Central R. R., and by the Erie 
Canal. A rail road which is soon to connect Ithaca with 
Sodus Bay and Oswego will greatly increase these facili- 
ties. It is also expected, at no distant day, that the 
Cayuga Lake will be connected to Lake Ontario by a 
ship canal, which will open the entire chain of lakes 
from Ogdensburg to Chicago and Superior City, to 
vessels hailing from the port of Ithaca. With this im- 
provement, Ithaca becomes a point where the coals of 
Pennsylvania, and the ores of North-eastern New York, 
Canada and Lake Superior can be brought together at 
less cost than at any other point, thus giving Ithaca 
superior advantages for the various manufactures of iron 
and copper. A large traffic would soon grow up be- 



Manufacturing Facilities. 133 

tween Ithaca and the ore supplying regions on the great 
lakes, they requiring the cheap coals from Ithaca, and 
Ithaca in turn taking their ores, thus affording tonnage 
both ways, which produces the greatest economy in 
transportation. 

The investigations which resulted from the building 
of the Cornell Library, and the eflTort to secure the loca- 
tion of the asylum for the blind at Ithaca, demonstrated, 
that building materials were cheaper at Ithaca than at 
any other place of equal population in the State, and 
that manufacturing buildings could be erected there at 
twenty per cent, less cost than at other localities. 

The same is the fact in reference to food and labor. 
Ithaca is surrounded by an excellent agricultural district 
of mixed products, from the grain and the dairy farms, 
and ^dth a population of industry and thrift, which 
would supply a large amount of help for any class of 
manufacturing. 

Ithaca is also one of the finest fruit districts in the 
State, which will add largely to the luxuries as well as 
the cheapness of living. Thus it will be seen, as fully as 
can be shown in a brief article, that Ithaca possesses 
desirable, cheap and enduring facilities, for a prosperous 
manufacturing town. 



ITHACA IN 1834. 



BY SOLOMON SOUTHWICK. 



The following extract is from a pamphlet, written 
thirty years ago, by the late eccentric and talented Solo- 
mon Southwick : 

Ithaca, September 11th, 1835. — When I visited Ithaca 
last year, I had no expectation of returning, unless it 
should be merely to pass through on a tour among the 
southern tier of counties on the west side of the Hudson : 
But events, in the order of Providence, having brought 
me once more as a sojourner, to this delightful, if not 
enchanting spot, where the God of Nature has been so 
lavish of liis bounties, and where Art is yet destined to 
behold some of her noblest triumphs ; I have been in- 
duced, at the request of several gentlemen, to copy for 
the press, some particular views of the scenery and water 
powers in ann about Ithaca, which I took during my 
former visit; inasmuch as they may lead the distant 
reader to form clearer views of the future prospects of 
this beautiful and interesting village. 

I am no landscape painter, and have never been in 
the habit of descriptive composition ; but had I the 
genius of Claude Loraine, as a painter of natural scenery ; 
and that of Shakespeare, Milton, or Thompson, as 
poetical describers of such scenerj'-, I should still despair 
of doing anything like ample justice to the uncommonly 
beautiful landscape views; the grand and numerous 



Ithaca in 1834. 135 

waterfalls ; and the sublime height of steep and rugged 
rock, or verdant mountain top, with which Ithaca is 
surrounded ; and by means of which she is destined not 
only to become one of the most favorite resorts of 
fashion, taste, and genius ; but one of the most wealthy 
and flourishing of inland cities ; for a city she will become 
of no small magnitude, long before the rising generation 
shall have passed away. This prediction is, I think, jus- 
tified by the details which follow ; and that it will be 
verified, though time must determine this point, I feel 
as confident as I do that I am now wielding my pen. 
Nothing can prevent it, nothing will prevent it if her 
present population possess the necessary enterprise, and 
take the proper measures, which her local and relative 
position demands, to bring her into notice, and hasten 
on her final success. " Fortune favors the bold,^^ was a 
heathen maxim, and has been often a stimulant with 
Christians to enterprise and perseverance ; but the citi- 
zens of Ithaca have only to believe, what is no doubt 
strictly true, that whatever they undertake for the 
advancement of their prosperity and happiness with a 
firm reliance on Divine Providence for success, will be 
brought to a happy conclusion. God never forsakes any 
who trust to his promises, and obey his laws : And more- 
over, where the foundations of human prosperity are so 
broadly and so deeply laid as they are at Ithaca, the very 
circumstance is an invitation from the Divine Beneficence 
to build and improve upon them till all their advantages 
are completely realized. 



AN OLD LAND MARK. 



The Ithaca Hotel. 

Standing on the south-west corner, at the intersection 
of Aurora and Owego streets, the venerable Ithaca Hotel 
still looks on with a benignant smile at the gliding 
throng as they hurry past or crowd its threshold, and 
here it has stood for the last half century, unchanged and 
unmoved by the world's turmoil, bustle and progress. 
Originally erected by Luther Gere, Esq., one of the 
founders and early pioneers of Ithaca, it was looked upon 
as a model hotel; and amid all the changes of time, has 
maintained its early reputation. 

Before the days of rail roads and telegraphs, from its 
front rolled away daily the various stage coaches for 
Catskill, Utica, Geneva, Buffalo, and the lines running 
to all points of the compass ; and then was gathered in 
its halls and porticoes the hurrying throngs of a bus}^ 
and impatient generation ; those who then complained 
of slow coaches, and were not quite satisfied to make the 
trip to New York in the unprecedented short time of 
five days, alas ! have passed away with the coaches that 
bore them on, and a new generation has entered into 
their possession and taken their places, and like their 
fathers before them, still complain that the rail consumes 
twelve or fourteen hours of their time in setting them 
down in Broadway, and seem quite as impatient as were 
their ancestors at the time-tables of the Swift-sure Line 



An Old Land Mark. 137 

of United States mail coaches, the echoes and dust of 
whose wheels have long since passed. Few have been the 
changes wrought by time in the old Hotel ; here it stands 
to-day, venerable in years, but bright in its exterior, and 
within as of old given to hospitality. Less ostentatious 
in frescoed ceilings and gilded cornices than its modern 
rivals, it wears upon its every feature the dignity which 
time alone can give, and boasts more of memories of the 
past than promises of its future. Its front pavements 
have been bored, not for oil ; but many a hickory shaft 
has been put down, and towering aloft with the Stars 
and Stripes given to the breeze, proclaimed it the " Old 
Tammany of Tompkins County." Its halls have been 
packed with untold conventions, and the affairs of the 
Nation in all its changes, have been discussed by a gene- 
ration of patriots. Beneath its roof gathered the patriots 
of 1812, and were mustered into service ; here was the 
roll call for the heroes of 1861, and the the echoes of 
the traitors' guns had not died away from Fort Sumpter 
before the citizens of Tompkins gathered at the hearth- 
stone of the old wigwam to offer their money and their 
lives for the defence of the Union. 

Its ceilings have echoed with the eloquence of De Witt 
Clinton, Silas Wright, Martin Van Buren, and a host of 
statesmen who have passed away. Venerable old pile ! 
May the dust of Time gather lightly on thy brow. 

Under the able management of mine host. Col. Welch, 
the Prince of Landlords, may the weary who seek thy 
threshold still find the Ithaca Hotel a home for the 
stranger, with a genial hand to welcome their arrival. 
A table of the choicest viands to invite their indul- 
gence and restore their wasted energies, and when the 
sojourner for a day or month departs thy hospitable 
18 



138 Scenery of Ithaca. 

shelter, we are sure it will be with pleasant memories, 
and above all, we are sure it will be with so light a bill 
as not to materially endanger the bank account of the 
departing guest ; and if regrets are experienced at all, they 
will be only felt that they cannot delay their visit longer, 
and enjoy its quiet repose and the urbane courtesies of 
its presiding spirit. Col. Wm. H. Welch. 




CLINTON HOUSE, ITHACA. 
From Photograph by J. U. Burritt. 



THE CLINTON HOUSE. 

In two classes of hotels only, can Slienstone's memo: 
rable stranger, which declares that life's fairest welcome 
is found at an Inn, be fully appreciated. In those snug, 
cosy, delightful little affairs which were before the rail 
road era, scattered on all the high roads of England, and 
in those superb establishments of our own day, when all 
life's necessities and most of life's luxuries are in the call 
of the guest. 

A great revolution in the conduct of a hotel was made 
in the administration of Warriner of Springfield, who 
so suffused his table with delicacies, that a week at his 
house was a perpetual feast — and no one ever sat at his 
tea table especially, and was waited on by "Emily" — 
but that he found a new chapter in the gastronomic life. 

Then Boyden of the Tremont initiated new order and 
discipline, and the standard has been increasing in its 
degree, till our American hotel life is as near the com- 
plete as can be found in the world. 

The most imposing and dignified building in all the 
beautiful plain of Ithaca is the Clinton House. Not even 
the elegant Cornell Library edifice, is as impressive to 
the entering traveler. In those massive columns, that 
broad portico, that proportioned rising of the whole build- 
ing till its belvidere crowns all, it is evident that the 
founders of this admirable House, had bold ideas of 
architectural excellence. It bears the name of Clinton, 



142 Scenery of Ithaca. 

because at the date of its formation, that statesman had 
in Ithaca enthusiastic friends, who were glad to affix his 
name to their great effort in enterprise. The people 
recognized Clinton as the founder of the canal, and the 
Erie canal unlocked the treasures of the West. This 
laurel can we never unbind from the brow of that splen- 
did man. 

The Clinton House is situated just where good taste 
would select. In the centre of the village, near its park, 
directly nigh its business street, on an avenue which 
runs from the hill side that is the way of the iron road, 
far down to the beach of the Lake. The situation is that 
which would now be selected, and this is high praise, 
when it is remembered how many years have passed 
since the Clinton House was erected. 

The hospitable record of the House is a capacious one. 
It includes statesmen and jurists, and also of travelers 
of celebrity who have shown their good taste in jour- 
neying, by traversing the regions of the Cayuga. From 
the venerable Surveyor General De Witt (the friend 
and correspondent of Washington), who watched its 
building with so much hope of its success, its register 
has been graced by thousands of names, good and true, 
not the least interesting page in which, is that which 
records the signature of the principal diplomats ac- 
credited to our government, when making with the 
Secretary of State, their tour of the country. 

The rebuilding of the House in 1862, was due to the 
increased enterprise of Ithaca. Mr. Cornell and Mr. 
Thompson together planned the new arrangements. 
They made the house a modern one. It was a stately 
and capacious one in its old devisings ; but it now has 
in its broader spaces and more beautiful appointments, 
those ways of living which our more fastidious — more 



The Clinton House. 143 

rapid age demands. The cliaracteristics of the Chnton 
House is its comfortable quiet. It is a home, if but for 
the night, for the flitting or the abiding traveler, it is the 
pleasant resting place. 

Its dining room does not ajEfect one as over large, but 
as just the nice apartment in which at a table of suitable 
size his meal silently and luxuriantly taken in ease. 
The house is large enough for all purposes, but it is 
snugly arranged, and the guest is delighted to find that 
he has found a place where he knows that he is to be 
cared for, and allowed to do as his own good taste may 
dictate. 

If he ascends to the belvidere, he has before him a 
picture of prosperity — a pleasant village is at his feet- 
houses, churches, shop and store are all around him — 
he sees the Inlet like a small Scottish river glittering in 
the midst of the verdure of garden and of hill ; while in 
the not far distance, the broad shield of the Cayuga 
reflects whatever may be the momentary beauty of the 
shore or of the skies. 

The valley rises to easy and agreeable drives. All 
around the village, scenery of the romance of Swiss 
ravines and gorges give bold relief to the placid beauty 
of the plain. The traveler may easily be allured to 
days of abiding in this pleasant alteration of his in and 
out door life. 

The landlord will care for him and not intrude on 
him. Of all the disciplined service of his house, Mr. 
Thompson may be the quietest man. He comprehends 
what the well ordered rules of such a house should be. 
They are given and obeyed, and he sees that the routine 
is observed ; and in this wise care for the security and 
ease of his guest, the high reputation of the Clinton 
House is preserved. 



144 Scenery of Tthaca. 

No one that sees what the action of our rapid, urgent, 
nomadic life in this country is, can doubt the value to a 
Tillage that seeks to maintain itself in its place of power 
as a community, of such establishments as is the Clinton 
House. It gives the ready answer to a question travel- 
ers ask, where shall I go ? It makes of Ithaca, a desira- 
ble mark in the journey, and the tourist calculates his 
progress by time. These pages of favorable word will 
be justified by the experience of those who come to 
Ithaca. They will be but the approved meed of each 
traveller. 

The Clinton House was built from 1828 to 1831. It 
owes its existence to the large purposed enterprise of 
Jeremiah S. Beebe, Henry Ackley and Henry Hibbard, 
gentlemen whose names cannot be dissevered from the 
history of the progress of Ithaca. They built in ad- 
vance of their day, but so do all men who dare to do 
bold and liberal acts. Those were dream like days for 
building, for the great structure originally cost only 
($32,000) twenty-two thousand dollars. The brick cost 
$2.25 per thousand. The master carpenter received his 
one dollar twenty-five cents per day — other carpenters 
and masons from 75 cts. to one dollar per day. Our 
new forests yielded their lumber in the choicest and 
best at ten dollars per thousand — the common not five 
dollars. The times are changed indeed. The new re- 
pairs which Messrs. Cornell and Thompson made to the 
building cost ten thousand dollars. Mr. Morris, who 
yet survives, was the master builder. 

The construction of the stairs was however considered 
a work of so much difficulty, that the services of a New 
York artist were procured. Our builders in 1865, would 
build a staircase to the planets, if the structure could find 
foundation. 



The Clinton House. 145 

The Clinton House in locality succeeds the Columbian 
Inn — and faint traces of the Revolutionary period can 
be noticed in this name, as Columbia was a favorite 
eagleism of our writers and orators in the twilight influ- 
ences of the war that made us a nation. 

Spencer and Dunning opened this house. It stands 
to-day, of the first class, and prominent in that class, of 
all the hotels outside of the larger cities. It shall yet, we 
trust, witness with all that honor the opening banquet, 
which shall be spread before scholars and thinkers and 
men of art and full life, to celebrate the completion of 
the Cornell University. 



19 



FIREMAN'S MONUMENT, ITHACA 



The above monument stands in the beautiful cemetery 
of Ithaca. The lot is for the free burial of any Fireman. 
From this point there is one of the finest views in the 
world. The village is below ; the Lake at the south, and 
the hills and valleys at the north and west. 




FIREMAN'S MONUMENT, ITHACA. 
Photographed by J. G. Burritt. 



LICK BROOK. 



Spirit of Beauty, and nursling of light, 
Phantom in essence, .yet potent in might, 
The forest depths and tangled wild, 
Joy to welcome thee — Nature's child. 
To the yearning heart of a lonely nook, 
Thou gavest the murmuring, tuneful brook. 
Long years have come, and years have gone. 
But the song it sang, that brook sings on ; 
The flowers of Spring still blush at its wooing. 
And mosses rejoice at its eager pursuing. 

List ! the rocks to the rivulet loudly are calling. 
While resonant defiles the echoes prolong, 
" Come, O thou fair streamlet ! no danger appalling. 
Shall check the full tide of thy musical song." 

'' O'er this desolate bosom, no blossoms are flinging. 
Their odors from censers of purple and gold. 
These rude arms extend, but no tendrils come clingmg. 
More genial the natures they fondly enfold." 

The loitering rivulet, softly revealing. 
Its love to the blossoms that smiled at its side. 
In hidden recesses, its currents concealing. 
Burst forth in the fullness of sympathy's tide. 

Then swifter and stronger, the torrent rushed sweeping. 
Along its cool margin, fresh verdure unrolled, 
It bathed, as it sprang, the stern precipice leaping. 
Bald foreheads of granite, grown centuries old. 

As years hasten on, thro' the distance resounding, 
The waters their spray -wreathed sisters will call, 
Whose echoing footsteps in joyous rebounding. 
Upon memory's ear shall refreshingly fall. 



150 Scenery of Ithaca. 

I have wandered afar, amid ruins enshrouded 
In loving regret by the dark evergreen, 
The cocoa's shade, and the sunlight unclouded, 
And billowy verdure adorned the fair scene. 

Over lone, barren deserts, unblest by sweet fountains. 
Or pausing to rest by Pacific's calm tide. 
Or climbing the steeps of Nevada's grey mountains, 
Whose summits uprear in their desolate pride. 

In fancy, I've heard the bright waters replying. 
To breezes that wander through Ithaca's vale, 
As impetuous Youth breathed affection undying. 
And warm lips repeated love's own fairy tale. 

There are those we have cherished, no longer returning, 
Who listened with us to deep Taghkanic's roar, 
A mightier anthem they since have been learning 
From surges that break on Eternity's shore. 

H. N. 
Oyster Bay, L. I., May 8th, 1866. 



BUSINESS LOCALITIES, ETC. 



Steamboats from Central Rail Road to Ithaca. 
Kate Morgan, Capt. Goodricli. Aurora, Capt. Dryer. 

Sheldrake, Capt. Ryersou. 

Rail Roads. 

Delawabe and Lackawanna, from Erie Rail Road at Owego, to 

Ithaca ; Wm. R. Humphrey, Superintendent. 



Hotels. 



Clinton House, 

S. D. Thompson. 
Tompkin's House, 

Holmes & Stamp. 
Farmers' Hotel, 

J. B. Scott. 



Ithaca Hotel, 

W. H, Welch. 

Farmers' Exchange, 
E. H. Watkins. 

LiVERMORE House, 
C. Livermore. 



Hall in Cornell Library. 



Halls. 
Village Hall. 



Clinton Hall. 



Post Office. 
In Cornell Library, J. H. Selkreg, P. M. 

Schools. 

Ithaca Academy, S. G. Williams, Principal. Female Department— 

Mrs. S. G. Williams, Principal. 
District School No. 16, S. B. Howe, Prin. Several private schools. 

Ithaca Brass Band. 
A. B. Whitlock, Leader. 



Telegraphs. 

United States Telegraph, Western Union Telegraph, 

Miss J. A. Nourse, Operator. J. H. Tichenor, Operator. 

Newspapers. 

American Citizen and Democrat, Spencer & Williams. 
Ithaca Journal and Advertises, J. H. Selkreg. 



THE 



SCENERY OF ITHACA 



AND THE 



Head Waters of the Cayuga 



SPENCE SPENCER 
ITHACA 

1866 



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